LIBRARY 

University   of   California 

IRVINE 


KATE    CARNEGIE 


WORKS   BY  THE   SAME   AUTHOR. 


THE    MIND   OF    THE    MASTER. 
THE   UPPER    ROOM. 

BESIDE  THE  BONNIE  BRIER  BUSH.  BY 
IAN  MACLAREN. 

THE  DAYS  OF  AULD  LANGSYNE.  BY 
IAN  MACLAREN. 

THE  CURE  OF  SOULS.  Yale  Lectures  on 
Practical  Theology.  By  JOHN  WATSON,  M.A., 
D.D. 


KATE  CARNEGIE 


IAN 


BY 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD   AND   COMPANY 
1896 


Copyright,  1S95,  1S06, 
BY  JOHN  WATSON. 

Copyright,  1S96, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY. 


JJrnunworth,  ITlunn  &  Barbrr, 

PRINTHRS  AND  BINDERS, 
16  XASSAU  STKEET,  BKOOKLVN,  N.  Y. 


TO 

A   CERTAIN    BROTHERHOOD 

JFaitljful  in  Criticism 
Jlogal  in  <3fffction 
in  trouble 


^008107 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     PANDEMONIUM i 

II.    PEACE 20 

III.  A  HOME  OF  MANY  GENERATIONS.    ...  32 

IV.  A  SECRET  CHAMBER 46 

V.     CONCERNING  BESOMS 56 

VI.    A  PLEASAUNCE 70 

VII.  A  WOMAN  OF  THE  NEW  DISPENSATION    .  85 

VIII.  A  WOMAN  OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION     .  102 

IX.     A  DAUGHTER  OF  DEBATE 117 

X.       A    SUPRA-LAPSARIAN 133 

XI.     IN  THE  GLOAMING 148 

XII.     KILBOGIE  MANSE 162 

XIII.  PREPARING  FOR  THE  SACRAMENT     .     .     .  177 

XIV.  A  MODERATE 192 

XV.    JOINT  POTENTATES 207 

XVI.     DRIED  ROSE  LEAVES 222 

XVII.     SMOULDERING  FIRES 238 

XVIII.     LOVE  SICKNESS        252 

XIX.  THE  FEAR  OF  GOD  268 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XX.  THE  WOUNDS  OF  A  FRIEND 283 

XXI.  LIGHT  AT  EVENTIDE 3°° 

XXII.  WITHOUT  FEAR  AND  WITHOUT  REPROACH  316 

XXIII.  MARGET  HOWE'S  CONFESSIONAL  ....  329 

XXIV.  LOVE  is  LORD 344 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

Carmichael  had  taken  his  Turn 10 

'•  Many  a  Ploy  we  had  together  "..,....  23 

Peter  was  standing  in  his  Favourite  Attitude  ....  29 

"  I  am  the  General's  Daughter" 38 

Janet  Macpherson  was  waiting  in  the  Deep  Doorway  .  42 

"It's  a  Difficult  Key  to  turn" 50 

Kate  in  her  Favourite  Position 59 

One  Gardener  who  .  .  .  works  for  Love's  Sake  ...  72 

Among  the  Great  Trees 79 

"  Mr.  Carmichael,  you  have  much  Cause  for  Thank- 
fulness " 96 

Carmichael  sang  a  Solo 108 

"  Here  iss  your  Silver  Piece  " 121 

"  I  should  call  it  a  Deliberate  —  " 128 

"  She  had  an  Unfortunate  Tendency  to  meddle  with  my 

Books" 146 

Mother  Church  cast  her  Spell  over  his  Imagination      .  153 

"Ye '11  be  hanging  Dr.  Chalmers  there" 166 

A  Tall,  Bony,  Forbidding  Woman 171 

Gathering  her  Berry  Harvest 179 


x  LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 

He  was  a  Mere  Wisp  of  a  Man    .          188 

"  Will  you  let  me  walk  with  you  for  a  Little  ?  "     .     .     .  204 

"  Private  Capaucity  " 210 

Standing  with  a  Half-Dried  Dish  in  her  Hand     .     .     .  215 

The  Old  Man  escorted  her  Ladyship 226 

Would  gossip  with  him  by  the  Hour 241 

The  Driver  stops  to  exchange  Views 254 

Two  Tramps  held  Conference  .     . 257 

Wrestling  in  Darkness  of  Soul 280 

His  Attitude  for  Exposition 292 

"Ay,  he's  in,  but  ye  canna  see  him  " 309 

"  To  put  Flowers  on  his  Crave  " 322 

"  You  have  been  awfully  Good  to  me  " 338 

"  He  sat  down  by  the  River-side  to  meditate  "...  353 


KATE    CARNEGIE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PANDEMONIUM. 

T    was    the    morning 
before    the    Twelfth, 
years  ago,  and  noth- 
ing  like    unto   Muir- 
town     Station    could 
'1   have  been  found  in  all 
the    travelling  world. 
For  Muirtown,  as  every- 
body knows,  is  the  cen- 
tre   which    receives   the 
southern   immigrants   in 
autumn,  and   distributes 
them,  with  all   their  be- 
longings  ofservants, 
horses,  dogs,  and  luggage, 
over  the   north  country 

from  Athole  to.  Sutherland.  All  night,  express  trains, 
whose  ordinary  formation  had  been  reinforced  by  horse 
boxes,  carriage  trucks,  saloons  and  luggage  vans,  drawn 
by  two  engines,  and  pushed  up  inclines  by  a  third,  had 
been  careering  along  the  three  iron  trunk  roads  that  run 

i 


2  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

from  London  to  the  North.  Four  hours  ago  they  had 
forced  the  border,  that  used  to  be  more  jealously  guarded, 
and  had  begun  to  converge  on  their  terminus.  Pas- 
sengers, awakened  by  the  caller  air  and  looking  out  still 
half  asleep,  miss  the  undisciplined  hedgerows  and  many- 
shaped  patches  of  pasture,  the  warm  brick  homesteads 
and  shaded  ponds  of  the  south.  Square  fields  cultivated 
up  to  a  foot  of  the  stone  dykes  or  wire-fencing,  the  strong 
grey-stone  farm-houses,  the  swift-running  burns,  and  the 
never-distant  hills,  brace  the  mind.  Local  passengers 
come  in  with  deliberation,  whose  austere  faces  condemn 
the  luxurious  disorder  of  night  travel,  and  challenge  the 
defence  of  Arminian  doctrine.  A  voice  shouts  "  Carstairs 
Junction,"  with  a  command  of  the  letter  r,  which  is 
the  bequest  of  an  unconquerable  past,  and  inspires  one 
with  the  hope  of  some  day  hearing  a  freeborn  Scot  say 
"  Auchterarder."  The  train  runs  over  bleak  moorlands 
with  black  peat  holes,  through  alluvial  straths  yielding 
their  last  pickle  of  corn,  between  iron  furnaces  blazing 
strangely  in  the  morning  light,  at  the  foot  of  historical 
castles  built  on  rocks  that  rise  out  of  the  fertile  plains, 
and  then,  after  a  space  of  sudden  darkness,  any  man  with 
a  soul  counts  the  ten  hours'  dust  and  heat  but  a  slight 
price  for  the  sight  of  the  Scottish  Rhine  flowing  deep, 
clear,  and  swift  by  the  foot  of  its  wooded  hills,  and  the 
"  Fair  City  "  in  the  heart  of  her  meadows. 

"  Do  you  see  the  last  wreath  of  mist  floating  off  the 
summit  of  the  hill,  and  the  silver  sheen  of  the  river 
against  the  green  of  the  woods?  Quick,  dad,"  and 
the  General,  accustomed  to  obey,  stood  up  beside  Kate 
for  the  brief  glimpse  between  the  tunnel  and  a  prison. 
Yet  they  had  seen  the  snows  of  the  Himalayas,  and  the 
great  river  that  runs  through  the  plains  of  India.  But 


PANDEMONIUM.  3 

it  is  so  with  Scottish  folk  that  they  may  have  lived  oppo- 
site the  Jungfrau  at  Miirren,  and  walked  among  the  big 
trees  of  the  Yosemite  Valley,  and  watched  the  blood-red 
afterglow  on  the  Pyramids,  and  yet  will  value  a  sunset 
behind  the  Cuchullin  hills,  and  the  Pass  of  the  Trossachs, 
and  the  mist  shot  through  with  light  on  the  sides  of  Ben 
Nevis,  and  the  Tay  at  Dunkeld  —  just  above  the  bridge 
—  better  guerdon  for  their  eyes. 

"Ay,  lassie"  —  the  other  people  had  left  at  Stirling, 
and  the  General  fell  back  upon  the  past  —  "  there  's  just 
one  bonnier  river,  and  that 's  the  Tochty  at  a  bend  below 
the  Lodge,  as  we  shall  see  it,  please  God,  this  evening." 

"Tickets,"  broke  in  a  voice  with  authority.  "This 
is  no  the  station,  an'  ye  '11  hae  to  wait  till  the  first 
diveesion  o'  yir  train  is  emptied.  Kildrurnmie?  Ye 
change,  of  coorse,  but  yir  branch  '11  hae  a  lang  wait  the 
day.  It  "11  be  an  awfu'  fecht  wi'  the  Hielant  train.  Muir- 
town  platform  '11  be  worth  seein' ;  it  '11  juist  be  michty," 
and  the  collector  departed,  smacking  his  lips  in  prospect 
of  the  fray. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  the  General,  taken  aback  for 
a  moment  by  the  easy  manners  of  his  countryman,  but 
rejoicing  in  every  new  assurance  of  home,  "  our  people, 
are  no  blate." 

"  Is  n't  it  delicious  to  be  where  character  has  not  been 
worn  smooth  by  centuries  of  oppression,  but  where  each 
man  is  himself?  Conversation  has  salt  here,  and  tastes 
in  the  mouth.  We  've  just  heard  two  men  speak  this 
morning,  and  each  face  is  bitten  into  my  memory.  Now 
our  turn  has  come,"  and  the  train  wound  itself  in  at  last. 

Porters,  averaging  six  feet  and  with  stentorian  voices, 
were  driving  back  the  mixed  multitude  in  order  to  afford 
foothold  for  the  new  arrivals  on  that  marvellous  landing 


4  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

place,  which  in  those  days  served  for  all  the  trains  which 
came  in  and  all  that  went  out,  both  north  and  south. 
One  man  tears  open  the  door  of  a  first  with  commanding 
gesture.  "  A'  change  and  hurry  up.  Na,  na,"  rejecting 
the  offer  of  a  private  engagement ;  "  we  hev  nae  time  for 
that  trade  the  day.  Ye  maun  cairry  yir  bags  yersels ; 
the  dogs  and  boxes  '11  tak  us  a'  oor  time."  He  unlocks 
an  under  compartment  and  drags  out  a  pair  of  pointers, 
who  fawn  upon  him  obsequiously  in  gratitude  for  their 
release.  "  Doon  wi'  ye,"  as  one  to  whom  duty  denies 
the  ordinary  courtesies  of  life,  and  he  fastens  them  to  the 
base  of  an  iron  pillar.  Deserted  immediately  by  their  de- 
liverer, the  pointers  made  overtures  to  two  elderly  ladies, 
standing  bewildered  in  the  crush,  to  be  repulsed  with 
umbrellas,  and  then  sit  down  upon  their  tails  in  despair. 
Their  forlorn  condition,  left  friendless  amid  this  babel, 
gets  upon  their  nerves,  and  after  a  slight  rehearsal,  just 
to  make  certain  of  the  tune,  they  lift  up  their  voices  in 
melodious  concert,  to  the  scandal  of  the  two  females, 
who  cannot  escape  the  neighbourhood,  and  regard  the 
pointers  with  horror.  Distant  friends,  also  in  bonds  and 
distress  of  mind,  feel  comforted  and  join  cheerfully,  while 
a  large  black  retriever,  who  had  foolishly  attempted  to 
obstruct  a  luggage  barrow  with  his  tail,  breaks  in  with  a 
high  solo.  Two  collies,  their  tempers  irritated  by  ob- 
stacles as  they  follow  their  masters,  who  had  been  taking 
their  morning  in  the  second-class  refreshment  room,  fall 
out  by  the  way,  and  obtain  as  by  magic  a  clear  space 
in  which  to  settle  details  ;  while  a  fox-terrier,  escaping 
from  his  anxious  mistress,  has  mounted  a  pile  of  boxes 
and  gives  a  general  challenge. 

Porters  fling  open  packed  luggage  vans  with  a  swing, 
setting  free  a  cataract  of  portmanteaus,  boxes,  hampers, 


PANDEMONIUM.  5 

baskets,  which  pours  across  the  platform  for  yards,  led  by 
a  frolicsome  black  leather  valise,  whose  anxious  owner 
has  fought  her  adventurous  way  to  the  van  for  the  pur- 
pose of  explaining  to  a  phlegmatic  Scot  that  he  would 
know  it  by  a  broken  strap,  and  must  lift  it  out  gently,  for 
it  contained  breakables. 

"  It  can  gang  itsel,  that  ane,"  as  the  afflicted  woman 
followed  its  reckless  progress  with  a  wail.  "  Sail,  if  they 
were  a'  as  clever  on  their  feet  as  yon  box  there  wud 
be  less  tribble,"  and  with  two  assistants  he  falls  upon 
the  congested  mass  within.  They  perform  prodigies  of 
strength,  handling  huge  trunks  that  ought  to  have  filled 
some  woman  with  repentance  as  if  they  were  Gladstone 
bags,  and  light  weights  as  if  they  were  paper  parcels. 
With  unerring  scent  they  detect  the  latest  label  among 
the  remains  of  past  history,  and  the  air  resounds  with 
"Hielant  train,"  "Aiberdeen  fast,"  '.'Aiberdeen  slow," 
"Muirtown"  —  this  with  indifference  —  and  at  a  time 
"  Dunleith,"  and  once  "  Kildrummie,"  with  much  con- 
tempt. By  this  time  stacks  of  baggage  of  varying  size 
have  been  erected,  the  largest  of  which  is  a  pyramid  in 
shape,  with  a  very  uncertain  apex. 

Male  passengers  —  heads  of  families  and  new  to  Muir- 
town —  hover  anxiously  round  the  outskirts,  and  goaded 
on  by  female  commands,  rush  into  the  heart  of  the  fray 
for  the  purpose  of  claiming  a  piece  of  luggage,  which 
turns  out  to  be  some  other  person's,  and  retire  hastily 
after  a  fair-sized  portmanteau  descends  on  their  toes, 
and  the  sharp  edge  of  a  trunk  takes  them  in  the  small  of 
the  back.  Footmen  with  gloves  and  superior  airs  make 
gentlemanly  efforts  to  collect  the  family  luggage,  and  are 
rewarded  by  having  some  hopelessly  vulgar  tin  boxes, 
heavily  roped,  deposited  among  its  initialled  glory.  One 


6  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

elderly  female  who  had  been  wise  to  choose  some  other 
day  to  revisit  her  native  town,  discovers  her  basket  flung 
up  against  a  pillar,  like  wreckage  from  a  storm,  and 
settles  herself  down  upon  it  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  She 
remains  unmoved  amid  the  turmoil,  save  when  a  passing 
gun-case  tips  her  bonnet  to  one  side,  giving  her  a  very 
rakish  air,  and  a  good-natured  retriever  on  a  neighbouring 
box  is  so  much  taken  with  her  appearance  that  he  offers 
her  a  friendly  caress.  Restless  people  —  who  remember 
that  their  train  ought  to  have  left  half  an  hour  ago,  and 
cannot  realise  that  all  bonds  are  loosed  on  the  eleventh  — 
fasten  on  any  man  in  a  uniform,  and  suffer  many  rebuffs. 

"There  's  nae  use  asking  me,"  answers  a  guard,  com- 
ing off  duty  and  pushing  his  way  through  the  crowd  as 
one  accustomed  to  such  spectacles  ;  "  a  'm  juist  in  frae 
Carlisle ;  get  haud  o'  a  porter." 

"  Cupar  Angus?  "  —  this  from  the  porter — "that's 
the  Aiberdeen  slow ;  it 's  no  made  up  yet,  and  little 
chance  o't  till  the  express  an'  the  Hielant  be  aff.  Whar 
'11  it  start  frae ?"  breaking  away;  "forrit,  a'  tell  ye, 
forrit." 

Fathers  of  families,  left  on  guard  and  misled  by  a 
sudden  movement  "forrit,"  rush  to  the  waiting-room 
and  bring  out,  for  the  third  time,  the  whole  expedition, 
to  escort  them  back  again  with  shame.  Barrows  with 
towering  piles  of  luggage  are  pushed  through  the  human 
mass  by  two  porters,  who  allow  their  engine  to  make  its 
own  way  with  much  confidence,  condescending  only  at  a 
time  to  shout,  "A'  say,  hey,  oot  o'  there,"  and  treating 
any  testy  complaint  with  the  silent  contempt  of  a  dray- 
man for  a  costermonger.  Old  hands,  who  have  fed  at 
their  leisure  in  callous  indifference  to  all  alarms,  lounge 
about  in  great  content,  and  a  group  ot  sheep  farmers, 


PANDEMONIUM.  7 

having  endeavoured  in  vain,  after  one  tasting,  to  settle 
the  merits  of  a  new  dip,  take  a  glance  in  the  "  Hielant " 
quarter,  and  adjourn  the  conference  once  more  to  the 
refreshment-room.  Groups  of  sportsmen  discuss  the 
prospects  of  to- morrow  in  detail,  and  tell  stories  of 
ancient  twelfths,  while  chieftains  from  London,  in  full 
Highland  dress,  are  painfully  conscious  of  the  whiteness 
of  their  legs.  A  handful  of  preposterous  people  who 
persist  in  going  south  when  the  world  has  its  face  north- 
wards, threaten  to  complain  to  headquarters  if  they  are 
not  sent  away,  and  an  official  with  a  loud  voice  and  a 
subtle  gift  of  humour  intimates  that  a  train  is  about  to 
leave  for  Dundee. 

During  this  time  wonderful  manoeuvres  have  been 
executed  on  the  lines  of  rail  opposite  the  platform. 
Trains  have  left  with  all  the  air  of  a  departure  and  dis- 
appeared round  the  curve  outside  the  station,  only  to 
return  in  fragments.  Half  a  dozen  carriages  pass  with- 
out an  engine,  as  if  they  had  started  on  their  own 
account,  break  vans  that  one  saw  presiding  over  ex- 
presses stand  forsaken,  a  long  procession  of  horse  boxes 
rattle  through,  and  a  saloon  carriage,  with  people,  is  so 
much  in  evidence  that  the  name  of  an  English  Duke 
is  freely  mentioned,  and  every  new  passage  relieves  the 
tedium  of  the  waiting. 

Out  of  all  this  confusion  trains  begin  to  grow  and  take 
shape,  and  one,  with  green  carriages,  looks  so  complete 
that  a  rumour  spreads  that  the  Hielant  train  has  been 
made  up  and  may  appear  any  minute  in  its  place.  The 
sunshine  beating  through  the  glass  roof,  the  heat  of 
travel,  the  dust  of  the  station,  the  moving  carriages  with 
their  various  colours,  the  shouts  of  railway  officials,  the 
recurring  panics  of  fussy  passengers,  begin  to  affect  the 


8  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

nerves.  Conversation  becomes  broken,  porters  are  be- 
set on  every  side  with  questions  they  cannot  answer, 
rushes  are  made  on  any  empty  carriages  within  reach,  a 
child  is  knocked  down  and  cries. 

Over  all  this  excitement  and  confusion  one  man  is 
presiding,  untiring,  forceful,  ubiquitous  —  a  sturdy  man, 
somewhere  about  five  feet  ten,  whose  lungs  are  brass  and 
nerves  fine  steel  wire.  He  is  dressed,  as  to  his  body,  in 
brown  corduroy  trousers,  a  blue  jacket  and  waistcoat 
with  shining  brass  buttons,  a  grey  flannel  shirt,  and  a 
silver- braided  cap,  which,  as  time  passes,  he  thrusts  fur- 
ther back  on  his  head  till  its  peak  stands  at  last  almost 
erect,  a  crest  seen  high  above  the  conflict.  As  to  the 
soul  of  him,  this  man  is  clothed  with  resolution,  cour- 
age, authority,  and  an  infectious  enthusiasm.  He  is  the 
brain  and  will  of  the  whole  organism,  its  driving  power. 
Drivers  lean  out  of  their  engines,  one  hand  on  the  steam 
throttle,  their  eyes  fixed  on  this  man ;  if  he  waves  his 
hands,  trains  move  ;  if  he  holds  them  up,  trains  halt. 
Strings  of  carriages  out  in  the  open  are  carrying  out  his 
plans,  and  the  porters  toil  like  maniacs  to  meet  his  com- 
mands. Piles  of  luggage  disappear  as  he  directs  the 
attack,  and  his  scouts  capture  isolated  boxes  hidden 
among  the  people.  Every  horse  box  has  a  place  in  his 
memory,  and  he  has  calculated  how  many  carriages 
would  clear  the  north  traffic ;  he  carries  the  destination 
of  families  in  his  head,  and  has  made  arrangements  for 
their  comfort.  "  Soon  ready  now,  sir,"  as  he  passed 
swiftly  down  to  receive  the  last  southerner,  "  and  a 
second  compartment  reserved  for  you,"  till  people 
watched  for  him,  and  the  sound  of  his  voice,  "  forrit  \vi' 
the  Hielant  luggage,"  inspired  bewildered  tourists  with 
confidence,  and  became  an  argument  for  Providence. 


PANDEMONIUM.  9 

There  is  a  general  movement  towards  the  northern  end 
of  the  station  ;  five  barrows,  whose  luggage  swings  dan- 
gerously and  has  to  be  held  on,  pass  in  procession ; 
dogs  are  collected  and  trailed  along  in  bundles ;  families 
pick  up  their  bags  and  press  after  their  luggage,  cheered 
to  recognise  a  familiar  piece  peeping  out  from  strange 
goods ;  a  bell  is  rung  with  insistence.  The  Aberdeen 
express  leaves  —  its  passengers  regarding  the  platform 
with  pity  —  and  the  guard  of  the  last  van  slamming  his 
door  in  triumph.  The  great  man  concentrates  his 
force  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  for  the  tour  de  force  of 
the  year,  the  despatch  of  the  Hielant.  train. 

The  southern  end  of  the  platform  is  now  deserted  — 
the  London  express  departed  half  an  hour  ago  with 
thirteen  passengers,  very  crestfallen  and  envious  —  and 
across  the  open  centre  porters  hustle  barrows  at  head- 
long speed,  with  neglected  pieces  of  luggage.  Along  the 
edge  of  the  Highland  platform  there  stretches  a  solid 
mass  of  life,  close-packed,  motionless,  silent,  composed 
of  tourists,  dogs,  families,  lords,  dogs,  sheep  farmers, 
keepers,  clericals,  dogs,  footmen,  commercials,  ladies' 
maids,  grooms,  dogs,  waiting  for  the  empty  train  that, 
after  deploying  hither  and  thither,  picking  up  some 
trifle,  a  horse  box  or  a  duke's  saloon,  at  every  new  raid, 
is  now  backing  slowly  in  for  its  freight.  The  expectant 
crowd  has  ceased  from  conversation,  sporting  or  other- 
wise ;  respectable  elderly  gentlemen  brace  themselves 
for  the  scramble,  and  examine  their  nearest  neighbours 
suspiciously ;  heads  of  families  gather  their  belongings 
round  them  by  signs  and  explain  in  a  whisper  how  to 
act ;  one  female  tourist  —  of  a  certain  age  and  severe 
aspect  —  refreshes  her  memory  as  to  the  best  window 
for  the  view  of  Killiecrankie.  The  luggage  has  been 


10 


KATE    CARNEGIE. 


piled  in  huge  masses  at  each  end  of  the  siding ;  the 
porters  rest  themselves  against  it,  taking  off  their  caps, 
and  wiping  their  foreheads  with  handkerchiefs  of  many 
colours  and  uses.  It  is  the  stillness  before  the  last 
charge ;  beyond  the  outermost  luggage  an  arm  is  seen 
waving,  and  the  long  coil  of  carriages  begins  to  twist 
into  the  station. 

People  who  know  their 
ancient  Muirtown  well, 
and  have  taken  part  in 
this  day  of  days,  will  re- 
member a  harbour  of 
refuge  beside  the  book- 
stall, protected  by  the 
buffers  of  the  Highland 
siding  on  one  side  and 
a  breakwater  of  luggage 
on  the  other,  and  per- 
sons within  this  shelter 
could  see  the  storming 
of  the  train  to  great  ad- 
vantage. Carmichael, 
the  young  Free  Kirk 
minister  of  Drumtochty, 
who  had  been  tasting  the 


CARMICHAEL   HAD   TAKEN    HIS   TURN. 


PANDEMONIUM.  n 

civilisation  of  Muirtown  overnight  and  was  waiting  for  the 
Dunleith  train,  leant  against  the  back  of  the  bookstall, 
watching  the  scene  with  frank,  boyish  interest.  Rather 
under  six  feet  in  height,  he  passed  for  more,  because  he 
stood  so  straight  and  looked  so  slim,  for  his  limbs  were  as 
slender  as  a  woman's,  while  women  (in  Muirtown)  had 
envied  his  hands  and  feet.  But  in  chest  measure  he  was 
only  two  inches  behind  Saunders  Baxter,  the  grieve  of 
Drumsheugh,  who  was  the  standard  of  manhood  by  whom 
all  others  were  tried  and  (mostly)  condemned  in  Drum- 
tochty.  Chancing  to  come  upon  Saunders  putting  the 
stone  one  day  with  the  bothy  lads,  Carmichael  had 
taken  his  turn,  with  the  result  that  his  stone  lay  foremost 
in  the  final  heat  by  an  inch  exactly.  MacLure  saw  them 
kneeling  together  to  measure,  the  Free  Kirk  minister 
and  the  ploughmen  all  in  a  bunch,  and  went  on  his  way 
rejoicing  to  tell  the  Free  Kirk  folk  that  their  new  minis- 
ter was  a  man  of  his  hands.  His  hair  was  fair,  just 
touched  with  gold,  and  he  wore  it  rather  long,  so  that 
in  the  excitement  of  preaching  a  lock  sometimes  fell 
down  on  his  forehead,  which  he  would  throw  back  with  a 
toss  of  his  head  —  a  gesture  Mrs.  Macfadyen,  our  critic, 
thought  very  taking.  His  dark  blue  eyes  used  to  enlarge 
with  passion  in  the  Sacrament  and  grow  so  tender,  the 
healthy  tan  disappeared  and  left  his  cheeks  so  white, 
that  the  mothers  were  terrified  lest  he  should  die  early, 
and  sent  offerings  of  cream  on  Monday  morning.  For 
though  his  name  was  Carmichael,  he  had  Celtic  blood  in 
him,  and  was  full  of  all  kinds  of  emotion,  but  mostly 
those  that  were  brave  and  pure  and  true.  He  had  done 
well  at  the  University,  and  was  inclined  to  be  philosoph- 
ical, for  he  knew  little  of  himself  and  nothing  of  the 
world.  There  were  times  when  he  allowed  himself  to  be 


12  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

supercilious  and  sarcastic ;  but  it  was  not  for  an  occa- 
sional jingle  of  cleverness  the  people  loved  him,  or,  for 
that  matter,  any  other  man.  It  was  his  humanity  that 
won  their  hearts,  and  this  he  had  partly  from  his  mother, 
partly  from  his  training.  Through  a  kind  providence 
and  his  mother's  countryness,  he  had  been  brought 
up  among  animals  —  birds,  mice,  dormice,  guinea-pigs, 
rabbits,  dogs,  cattle,  horses,  till  he  knew  all  their  ways, 
and  loved  God's  creatures  as  did  St.  Francis  d'Assisi, 
to  whom  every  creature  of  God  was  dear,  from  Sister 
Swallow  to  Brother  Wolf.  So  he  learned,  as  he  grew 
older,  to  love  men  and  women  and  little  children,  even 
although  they  might  be  ugly,  or  stupid,  or  bad-tempered, 
or  even  wicked,  and  this  sympathy  cleansed  away  many 
a  little  fault  of  pride  and  self-conceit  and  impatience  and 
hot  temper,  and  in  the  end  of  the  days  made  a  man  of 
John  Carmichael.  The  dumb  animals  had  an  instinct 
about  this  young  fellow,  and  would  make  overtures  to 
him  that  were  a  certificate  for  any  situation  requiring 
character.  Horses  by  the  wayside  neighed  at  his 
approach,  and  stretched  out  their  velvet  muzzles  to  be 
stroked.  Dogs  insisted  upon  sitting  on  his  knees,  unless 
quite  prevented  by  their  size,  and  then  they  put  their 
paws  on  his  chest.  Hillocks  was  utterly  scandalised  by 
his  collie's  familiarity  with  the  minister,  and  brought  him 
to  his  senses  by  the  application  of  a  boot,  but  Car- 
michael waived  all  apologies.  "  Rover  and  I  made 
friends  two  days  ago  on  the  road,  and  my  clothes  will 
take  no  injury."  And  indeed  they  could  not,  for  Car- 
michael, except  on  Sundays  and  at  funerals,  wore  a 
soft  hat  and  suit  of  threadbare  tweeds,  on  which  a  micro- 
scopist  could  have  found  traces  of  a  peat  bog,  moss  of 
dykes,  the  scale  of  a  trout,  and  a  tiny  bit  of  heather. 


PANDEMONIUM.  13 

His  usual  fortune  befell  him  that  day  in  Muirtown 
Station,  for  two  retrievers,  worming  their  way  through 
the  luggage,  reached  him,  and  made  known  their  wants. 

"Thirsty?  I  believe  you".  All  the  way  from  England, 
and  heat  enough  to  roast  you  alive.  I  Ve  got  no  dish, 
else  I  'd  soon  get  water. 

"  Inverness  ?  Poor  chaps,  that 's  too  far  to  go  with 
your  tongues  like  a  lime-kiln.  Down,  good  dogs ;  I  '11 
be  back  in  a  minute." 

You  can  have  no  idea,  unless  you  have  tried  it,  how 
much  water  a  soft  clerical  hat  can  hold  —  if  you  turn  up 
the  edges  and  bash  down  the  inside  with  your  fist,  and 
fill  the  space  to  the  brim.  But  it  is  difficult  to  con- 
vey such  a  vessel  with  undiminished  content  through  a 
crowd,  and  altogether  impossible  to  lift  one's  eyes. 
Carmichael  was  therefore  quite  unconscious  that  two 
new-comers  to  the  shelter  were  watching  him  with  keen 
delight  as  he  came  in  bareheaded,  flushed,  triumphant 
—  amid  howls  of  welcome  — and  knelt  down  to  hold  the 
cup  till  —  drinking  time  about  in  strict  honour  —  the 
retrievers  had  reached  the  maker's  name. 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  like  a  biscuit?  "  said  a 
clear,  sweet,  low  voice,  with  an  accent  of  pride  and  just 
a  flavour  of  amusement  in  its  tone.  Carmichael  rose  in 
much  embarrassment,  and  was  quite  confounded. 

They  were  standing  together  —  father  and  daughter, 
evidently  —  and  there  was  no  manner  of  doubt  about 
him.  A  spare  man,  without  an  ounce  of  superfluous 
flesh,  straight  as  a  rod,  and  having  an  air  of  command, 
with  keen  grey  eyes,  close-cropped  hair  turning  white, 
a  clean-shaven  face  except  where  a  heavy  moustache 
covered  a  firm-set  mouth  —  one  recognised  in  him  a 
retired  army  man  of  rank,  a  colonel  at  least,  it  might  be 


i4  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

a  general ;  and  the  bronze  on  his  face  suggested  long 
Indian  service.  But  he  might  have  been  dressed  in 
Rob  Roy  tartan,  or  been  a  naval  officer  in  full  uniform, 
for  all  Carmichael  knew.  A  hundred  thousand  faces 
pass  before  your  eyes  and  are  forgotten,  mere  physical 
impressions ;  you  see  one,  and  it  is  in  your  heart  for 
ever,  as  you  saw  it  the  first  time.  Wavy  black  hair,  a 
low,  straight  forehead,  hazel  eyes  with  long  eyelashes,  a 
perfectly-shaped  Grecian  nose,  a  strong  mouth,  whose 
upper  lip  had  a  curve  of  softness,  a  clear-cut  chin  with 
one  dimple,  small  ears  set  high  in  the  head,  and  a  rich 
creamy  complexion  —  that  was  what  flashed  upon  Car- 
michael as  he  turned  from  the  retrievers.  He  was  a 
man  so  unobservant  of  women  that  he  could  not  have 
described  a  woman's  dress  to  save  his  life  or  any  other 
person's ;  and  now  that  he  is  married  —  he  is  a  middle- 
aged  man  now  and  threatened  with  stoutness  —  it  is  his 
wife's  reproach  that  he  does  not  know  when  she  wears 
her  new  spring  bonnet  for  the  first  time.  Yet  he  took  in 
this  young  woman's  dress,  from  the  smart  hat,  with  a 
white  bird's  wing  on  the  side,  and  the  close-fitting  tailor 
made  jacket,  to  the  small,  well-gloved  hand  in  dogskin, 
the  grey  tweed  skirt,  and  one  shoe,  with  a  tip  on  it,  that 
peeped  out  below  her  frock.  Critics  might  have  hinted 
that  her  shoulders  were  too  square,  and  that  her  figure 
wanted  somewhat  in  softness  of  outline ;  but  it  seemed 
to  Carmichael  that  he  had  never  seen  so  winsome  or 
high-bred  a  woman ;  and  so  it  has  also  seemed  to  many 
who  have  gone  farther  afield  in  the  world  than  the  young 
minister  of  Drumtochty. 

Carmichael  was  at  that  age  when  a  man  prides  him- 
self on  dressing  and  thinking  as  he  pleases,  and  had 
quite  scandalised  a  Muirtown  elder  —  a  stout  gentleman, 


PANDEMONIUM.  15 

who  had  come  out  in  '43,  and  could  with  difficulty  be 
weaned  from  Dr.  Chalmers  —  by  making  his  appearance 
on  the  preceding  evening  in  amazing  tweeds  and  a  grey 
flannel  shirt.  He  explained  casually  that  for  a  fifteen- 
mile  walk  flannels  were  absolutely  necessary,  and  that  he 
was  rather  pleased  to  find  that  he  had  come  from  door 
to  door  in  four  hours  and  two  minutes  exactly.  His 
host  was  at  a  loss  for  words,  because  he  was  comparing 
this  unconventional  youth  with  the  fathers,  who  wore 
large  white  stocks  and  ambled  along  at  about  two  and  a 
half  miles  an  hour,  clearing  their  throats  also  in  a  very 
impressive  way,  and  seasoning  the  principles  of  the  Free 
Kirk  with  snuff  of  an  excellent  fragrance.  It  was  hard 
even  for  the  most  generous  charity  to  identify  the  spirit 
of  the  Disruption  in  such  a  figure,  and  the  good  elder 
grew  so  proper  and  so  didactic  that  Carmichael  went 
from  bad  to  worse. 

"  Well,  you  would  find  the  congregation  in  excellent 
order.  The  Professor  was  a  most  painstaking  man, 
though  retiring  in  disposition,  and  his  sermons  were 
thoroughly  solid  and  edifying.  They  were  possibly  just 
a  little  above  the  heads  of  Drumtochty,  but  I  always 
enjoyed  Mr.  Cunningham  myself,"  nodding  his  head  as 
one  who  understood  all  mysteries. 

"  Did  you  ever  happen  to  hear  the  advice  Jamie 
Soutar  gave  the  deputation  from  Muirtown  when  they 
came  up  to  see  whether  Cunningham  would  be  fit  for  the 
North  Kirk,  where  two  Bailies  stand  at  the  plate  every 
day,  and  the  Provost  did  not  think  himself  good  enough 
to  be  an  elder?  "  for  Carmichael  was  full  of  wickedness 
that  day,  and  earning  a  judgment. 

His  host  indicated  that  the  deputation  had  given  in  a 
very  full  and  satisfactory  report  —  he  was,  in  fact,  on  the 


1 6  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Session  of  the  North  himself — but  that  no  reference 
had  been  made  to  Jamie. 

"  Well,  you  must  know,"  and  Carmichael  laid  himself 
out  for  narration,  "  the  people  were  harassed  with  raids 
from  the  Lowlands  during  Cunningham's  time,  and  did 
their  best  in  self-defence.  Spying  makes  men  cunning, 
and  it  was  wonderful  how  many  subterfuges  the  deputa- 
tions used  to  practise.  They  would  walk  from  Kildrum- 
mie  as  if  they  were  staying  in  the  district,  and  one 
retired  tradesman  talked  about  the  crops  as  if  he  was  a 
farmer,  but  it  was  a  pity  that  he  did  n't  know  the  differ- 
ence between  the  cereals. 

" « Yon  man  that  wes  up  aifter  yir  minister,  Elspeth,' 
Hillocks  said  to  Mrs.  Macfadyen.  '  hesna  hed  muckle 
money  spent  on  his  eddication.  "  A  graund  field  o' 
barley,"  he  says,  and  as  sure  as  a  'm  stannin'  here,  it 
wes  the  haugh  field  o'  aits.' 

" '  He  's  frae  Glaisgie,'  was  all  Elspeth  answered,  '  and 
by  next  Friday  we  '11  hae  his  name  an'  kirk.  He  said 
he  wes  up  for  a  walk  an'  juist  dropped  in,  the  wratch.' 

"  Some  drove  from  Muirtown,  giving  out  that  they  were 
English  tourists,  speaking  with  a  fine  East  Coast  accent, 
and  were  rebuked  by  Lachlan  Campbell  for  breaking  the 
Sabbath.  Your  men  put  up  their  trap  at  the  last  farm  in 
Netheraird — which  always  has  grudged  Drumtochty  its 
ministers  and  borne  their  removal  with  resignation  —  and 
came  up  in  pairs,  who  pretended  they  did  not  know  one 
another. 

"Jamie  was  hearing  the  Professor's  last  lecture  on 
Justification,  and  our  people  asked  him  to  take  charge 
of  the  strangers.  He  found  out  the  town  from  their 
hats,  and  escorted  them  to  the  boundaries  of  the  parish, 
assisting  their  confidences  till  one  of  your  men  —  I 


PANDEMONIUM.  1 7 

think  it  was  the  Provost  —  admitted  that  it  had  taken 
them  all  their  time  to  follow  the  sermon. 

"  '  A  'm  astonished  at  ye,'  said  Jamie,  for  the  Nether- 
aird  man  let  it  out ;  '  yon  wes  a  sermon  for  young  fouk, 
juist  milk,  ye  ken,  tae  the  ordinar'  discoorses.  Surely,'  as 
if  the  thought  had  just  struck  him,  '  ye  werena  thinkin' 
o'  callin'  Maister  Cunningham  tae  Muirtown. 

"  '  Edinboorgh,  noo ;  that  micht  dae  gin  the  feck  o' 
the  members  be  professors,  but  Muirtown  wud  be  clean 
havers.  There 's  times  when  the  Drumtochty  fouk 
themsels  canna  understand  the  cratur,  he  's  that  deep. 
As  for  Muirtown '  —  here  Jamie  allowed  himself  a  brief 
rest  of  enjoyment ;  '  but  ye  Ve  hed  a  fine  drive,  tae  say 
naethin'  o'  the  traivel.'  " 

Then,  having  begun,  Carmichael  retailed  so  many  of 
Jamie's  most  wicked  sayings,  and  so  exalted  the  Glen  as 
a  place  "  where  you  can  go  up  one  side  and  down  the 
other  with  your  dogs,  and  every  second  man  you  meet 
will  give  you  something  to  remember,"  that  the  city 
dignitary  doubted  afterwards  to  his  wife  "  whether  this 
young  man  was  .  .  .  quite  what  we  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  in  a  Free  Church  minister."  Carmichael  ought 
to  have  had  repentances  for  shocking  a  worthy  man,  but 
instead  thereof  laughed  in  his  room  and  slept  soundly, 
not  knowing  that  he  would  be  humbled  in  the  dust  by 
mid-day  to-morrow. 

It  seemed  to  him  on  the  platform  as  if  an  hour  passed 
while  he,  who  had  played  with  a  city  father,  stood,  clothed 
with  shame,  before  this  commanding  young  woman. 
Had  she  ever  looked  upon  a  more  abject  wretch?  and 
Carmichael  photographed  himself  with  merciless  accu- 
racy, from  his  hair  that  he  had  not  thrown  back  to  an 
impress  of  dust  which  one  knee  had  taken  from  the 


1 8  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

platform,  and  he  registered  a  resolution  that  he  would 
never  be  again  boastfully  indifferent  to  the  loss  of  a 
button  on  his  coat.  She  stooped  and  fed  the  dogs,  who 
did  her  homage,  and  he  marked  that  her  profile  was 
even  finer  —  more  delicate,  more  perfect,  more  bewitch- 
ing—than her  front  face ;  but  he  still  stood  holding  his 
shapeless  hat  in  his  hand,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  had  no  words  to  say. 

"  They  are  very  polite  dogs,"  and  Miss  Carnegie  gave 
Carmichael  one  more  chance  ;  "  they  make  as  much  of  a 
biscuit  as  if  it  were  a  feast ;  but  I  do  think  dogs  have  such 
excellent  manners,  they  are  always  so  un-self-conscious." 

"  I  wish  I  were  a  dog,"  said  Carmichael,  with  much 
solemnity,  and  afterwards  was  filled  with  thankfulness  that 
the  baggage  behind  gave  way  at  that  moment,  and  that  an 
exasperated  porter  was  able  to  express  his  mind  freely. 

"  Dinna  try  tae  lift  that  box  for  ony  sake,  man.  Sail, 
ye  "re  no'  feared,"  as  Carmichael,  thirsting  for  action, 
swung  it  up  unaided ;  and  then,  catching  sight  of  the 
merest  wisp  of  white,  "  A'  didna  see  ye  were  a  minister, 
an'  the  word  cam  oot  sudden." 

"  You  would  find  it  a  help  to  say  Northumberland, 
Cumberland,  Westmoreland,  and  Durham,"  and  with  a 
smile  to  Carmichael,  still  bareheaded  and  now  redder 
than  ever,  Miss  Carnegie  went  along  the  platform  to  see  the 
Hielant  train  depart.  It  was  worth  waiting  to  watch  the 
two  minutes'  scrimmage,  and  to  hear  the  great  man  say, 
as  he  took  off  his  cap  with  deliberation  and  wiped  his 
brow,  "  That 's  anither  year  ower ;  some  o'  you  lads  see 
tae  that  Dunleith  train."  There  was  a  day  when  Car- 
michael would  have  enjoyed  the  scene  to  the  full,  but 
now  he  had  eyes  for  nothing  but  that  tall,  slim  figure  and 
the  white  bird's  wing. 


PANDEMONIUM.  19 

When  they  disappeared  into  the  Dunleith  train,  Car- 
michael  had  a  wild  idea  of  entering  the  same  compart- 
ment, and  in  the  end  had  to  be  pushed  into  the  last 
second  by  the  guard,  who  knew  most  of  his  regular 
people  and  every  one  of  the  Drumtochty  men.  He  was 
so  much  engaged  with  his  own  thoughts  that  he  gave 
two  English  tourists  to  understand  that  Lord  Kilspindie's 
castle,  standing  amid  its  woods  on  the  bank  of  the  Tay, 
was  a  recently  erected  dye  work,  and  that  as  the  train 
turned  off  the  North  trunk  line  for  Dunleith  they  might 
at  any  moment  enter  the  pass  of  Killiecrankie. 


CHAPTER   II. 


PEACE. 

[/HE    last   stage  now,  Kit; 
in  less    than    two    hours 
we'll  see  Tochty   woods. 
The   very  thought  makes 
me    a   boy  again,  and  it 
seems    yesterday    that     I 
kissed   your   mother   on   the 
door-step   of  the    old    lodge 
and  went  off  to  the  Crimean 
war. 

"  That 's  Muirtown  Castle 
over  there  in  the  wood  —  a 
grand  place  in  its  way,  but 
nothing  to  our  home,  lassie. 
Kilspindie  —  he  was  Viscount 
Hay  then  —  joined  me  at 

Muirtown,  and  we  fought  through  the  weary  winter.  He 
left  the  army  after  the  war,  with  lots  of  honour.  A  good 
fellow  was  Hay,  both  in  the  trenches  and  the  messroom. 
"  I  've  never  seen  him  since,  and  I  dare  say  he 's  for- 
gotten a  battered  old  Indian.  Besides,  he  's  the  big 
swell  in  this  district,  and  I  'm  only  a  poor  Hielant  laird, 
with  a  wood  and  a  tumble-down  house  and  a  couple  of 
farms." 


PEACE.  21 

"  You  are  also  a  shameless  hypocrite  and  deceiver,  for 
you  believe  that  the  Carnegies  are  as  old  as  the  Hays, 
and  you  know  that,  though  you  have  only  two  farms,  you 
have  twelve  medals  and  seven  wounds.  What  does 
money  matter?  it  simply  makes  people  vulgar." 

"  Nonsense,  lassie ;  if  a  Carnegie  runs  down  money, 
it 's  because  he  has  got  none  and  wishes  he  had.  If 
you  and  I  had  only  a  few  hundreds  a  year  over  the  half- 
pay  to  rattle  in  our  pockets,  we  should  have  lots  of  lit- 
tle pleasures,  and  you  might  have  lived  in  England,  with 
all  sorts  of  variety  and  comfort,  instead  of  wandering 
about  India  with  a  gang  of  stupid  old  chaps  who  have 
been  so  busy  fighting  that  they  never  had  time  to  read 
a  book." 

"  You  mean  like  yourself,  dad,  and  V.  C.  and  Colonel 
Kinloch  ?  Where  could  a  girl  have  found  finer  company 
than  with  my  Knights  of  King  Arthur?  And  do  you 
dare  to  insinuate  that  I  could  have  been  content  away 
from  the  regiment,  that  made  me  their  daughter  after 
mother  died,  and  the  army? 

"Pleasure!"  and  Kate's  cheek  flushed.  "  I  Ve  had 
it  since  I  was  a  little  tot  and  could  remember  anything 
—  the  bugles  sounding  reveille  in  the  clear  air,  and  the 
sergeants  drilling  the  new  drafts  in  the  morning,  and  the 
regiment  coming  out  with  the  band  before  and  you  at 
its  head,  and  hearing  '  God  save  the  Queen '  at  a  review, 
and  seeing  the  companies  passing  like  one  man  before 
the  General. 

"  Don't  you  think  that 's  better  than  tea-drinking,  and 
gossiping,  and  sewing  meetings,  and  going  for  walks  in 
some  stupid  little  hole  of  a  country  town?  Oh,  you 
wicked,  aggravating  dad.  Now,  what  more  will  money 
do?" 


22  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Well,"  said  the  General,  with  much  gravity,  "  if  you 
were  even  a  moderate  heiress  there  is  no  saying  but  that 
we  might  pick  up  a  presentable  husband  for  you  among 
the  lairds.  As  it  is,  I  fancy  a  country  minister  is  all  you 
could  expect. 

"  Don't  .  .  .  my  ears  will  come  off  some  day ;  one 
was  loosened  by  a  cut  in  the  Mutiny.  No,  I  '11  never  do 
the  like  again.  But  some  day  you  will  marry,  all  the 
same,"  and  Kate's  father  rubbed  his  ears. 

"  No,  I  'm  not  going  to  leave  you,  for  nobody  else 
could  ever  make  a  curry  to  please ;  and  if  I  do,  it  will 
not  be  a  Scotch  minister  —  horrid,  bigoted  wretches, 
V.  C.  says.  Am  I  like  a  minister's  wife,  to  address 
mothers'  meetings  and  write  out  sermons?  By  the  way, 
is  there  a  kirk  at  Drumtochty,  or  will  you  read  prayers  to 
Janet  and  Donald  and  me?" 

"  When  I  was  a  lad  there  was  just  one  minister  in 
Drumtochty,  Mr.  Davidson,  a  splendid  specimen  of  the 
old  school,  who,  on  great  occasions,  wore  gaiters  and  a 
frill  with  a  diamond  in  the  centre ;  he  carried  a  gold- 
headed  stick,  and  took  snuff  out  of  a  presentation 
box. 

"  His  son  Sandie  was  my  age  to  a  year,  and  many 
a  ploy  we  had  together;  there  was  the  jackdaw's  nest 
in  the  ivy  on  the  old  tower  we  harried  together,"  and 
the  General  could  only  indicate  the  delightful  risk  of  the 
exploit.  "  My  father  and  the  minister  were  pacing  the 
avenue  at  the  time,  and  caught  sight  of  us  against 
the  sky.  '  It 's  your  rascal  and  mine,  Laird,'  we  heard 
the  minister  say,  and  they  waited  till  we  got  down,  and 
then  each  did  his  duty  by  his  own  for  trying  to  break 
his  neck ;  but  they  were  secretly  proud  of  the  exploit, 
for  I  caught  my  father  showing  old  Lord  Kilspindie 


PEACE. 


the  spot,  and  next  time  Hay  was  up  he  tried  to  reach  the 
place,  and  stuck  where  the  wall  hangs  over.  I  '11  point 
out  the  hole  this  evening ;  you  can  see  it  from  the  other 
side  of  the  den  quite  plain.  *  / 

"  Sandie  went   to  the   church 
—  I  wish  every  parson  were  as 
straight  —  and   Kilspindie  ap- 
pointed him  to  succeed  the  old 
gentleman,  and  when  I  saw  him 
in  his  study  last  month,  it  seemed 
as  if  his  father  stood  before  you, 
except  the  breeches  and  the  frill ; 
but  Sandie  has 
a       marvellous 
stock  —  what 
havers    I    'm 
deivin'     you 
with,  lassie." 

"Tell  me 
about  Sandie 
this  minute  — 
did  he  remem- 
ber the  raiding 
of  the  jack- 
daws?" 

"  He  did," 
cried  the  Gen- 
eral, in  great 
spirits ;  "  he  just  looked  at  me  for  an  instant  —  no  one 
knew  of  my  visit  —  and  then  he  gripped  my  hands,  and 
do  you  know,  Kit,  he  was  .  .  .  well,  and  there  was  a 
lump  in  my  throat  too  ;  it  would  be  about  thirty  years, 
for  one  reason  and  another,  since  we  met." 


"MANY  A  PLOY  WE  HAD  TOGETHER. 


24  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"What  did  he  say?  the  very  words,  dad,"  and  Kate 
held  up  her  ringer  in  command. 

" '  Jack,  old  man,  is  this  really  you  ? '  —  he  held  me 
at  arm's  length  — '  man,  div  ye  mind  the  jackdaw's 
nest?'"  x 

"  Did  he  ?  And  he  's  to  be  our  padre.  I  know  I  '11 
love  him  at  once.  Go  on,  everything,  for  you  've  never 
told  me  anything  about  Drumtochty." 

"  We  had  a  glorious  time  going  over  old  times.  We 
fished  up  every  trout  again,  and  we  shot  our  first  day  on 
the  moor  again  with  Peter  Stewart,  Kilspindie's  head 
keeper,  as  fine  an  old  Highlander  as  ever  lived.  Stewart 
said  in  the  evening,  '  You  're  a  pair  of  prave  boys,  as 
becometh  your  fathers'  sons,'  and  Sandie  gave  him  two 
and  fourpence  he  had  scraped  for  a  tip,  but  I  had  only 
one  and  elevenpence  —  we  were  both  kept  bare.  But 
he  knew  better  than  to  refuse  our  offerings,  though  he 
never  saw  less  than  gold  or  notes  from  the  men  that  shot 
at  the  lodge,  and  Sandie  remembered  how  he  touched 
his  Highland  bonnet  and  said,  '  I  will  be  much  obliged 
to  you  both ;  and  you  will  be  coming  to  the  moor  another 
day,  for  I  hef  his  lordship's  orders.' 

"  Boys  are  queer  animals,  lassie ;  we  were  prouder 
that  Peter  accepted  our  poor  little  tip  than  about  the 
muirfowl  we  shot,  though  I  had  three  brace  and  Sandie 
four.  Highlanders  are  all  gentlemen  by  birth,  and  be 
sure  of  this,  Kit,  it 's  only  that  breed  which  can  manage 
boys  and  soldiers.  But  where  am  I  now?  " 

"  With  Sandie  —  I  beg  his  reverence's  pardon  —  with 
the  Rev.  the  padre  of  Drumtochty,"  and  Kate  went  over 
and  sat  down  beside  the  General  to  anticipate  any  re- 
bellion, for  it  was  a  joy  to  see  the  warrior  turning  into  a 
boy  before  her  eyes.  "  Well  ?  " 


PEACE.  25 

"  We  had  a  royal  dinner,  as  it  seemed  to  me.  Sandie 
has  a  couple  of  servants,  man  and  wife,  who  rule  him 
with  a  rod  of  iron,  but  I  would  forgive  that  for  the  cook- 
ing and  the  loyalty.  After  dinner  he  disappeared  with  a 
look  of  mystery,  and  came  back  with  a  cobwebbed  bottle 
of  the  old  shape,  short  and  bunchy,  which  he  carried  as 
if  it  were  a  baby. 

"  '  Just  two  bottles  of  my  father's  port  left ;  we  '11  have 
one  to-day  to  welcome  you  back,  and  we  '11  keep  the 
other  to  celebrate  your  daughter's  marriage.'  He  had 
one  sister,  younger  by  ten  years,  and  her  death  in  girl- 
hood nearly  broke  his  heart.  It  struck  me  from  some- 
thing he  said  that  his  love  is  with  her ;  at  any  rate,  he 
has  never  married.  Sandie  has  just  one  fault  —  he 
would  not  touch  a  cheroot ;  but  he  snuffs  handsomely 
out  of  his  father's  box. 

"  Of  course,  I  can't  say  anything  about  his  preaching, 
but  it 's  bound  to  be  sensible  stuff." 

"  Bother  the  sermons ;  he  's  an  old  dear  himself,  and 
I  know  we  shall  be  great  friends.  We  '11  flirt  together, 
and  you  will  not  have  one  word  to  say,  so  make  up  your 
mind  to  submit." 

"  We  shall  have  good  days  in  the  old  place,  lassie ; 
but  you  know  we  are  poor,  and  must  live  quietly.  What 
I  have  planned  is  a  couple  of  handy  women  or  so  in  the 
house  with  Donald.  Janet  is  going  to  live  at  the  gate 
where  she  was  brought  up,  but  she  will  look  after  you 
well,  and  we  '11  always  have  a  bed  and  a  glass  of  wine  for 
a  friend.  Then  you  can  have  a  run  up  to  London  and 
get  your  things,  Kit,"  and  the  General  looked  wistfully 
at  his  daughter,  as  one  who  would  have  given  her  a 
kingdom. 

"  Do  you  think  your  girl  cares  so  much  about  luxuries 


26  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

and  dresses?  Of  course  I  like  to  look  well — every 
woman  does,  and  if  she  pretends  otherwise  she  's  a  hypo- 
crite; but  money  just  seems  to  make  some  women 
hideous.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  have  you  all  to  myself 
up  in  your  old  home,  and  to  see  you  enjoying  the  rest 
you  have  earned.  We'll  be  as  happy  as  two  lovers, 
dad,"  and  Kate  threw  an  arm  round  her  father's  neck 
and  kissed  him. 

"We  have  to  change  here,"  as  the  train  began  to 
slow ;  "  prepare  to  see  the  most  remarkable  railway  in  the 
empire,  and  a  guard  to  correspond."  And  then  it  came 
upon  them,  the  first  sight  that  made  a  Drumtochty  man's 
heart  warm,  and  assured  him  that  he  was  nearing  home. 

An  engine  on  a  reduced  scale,  that  had  once  served 
in  the  local  goods  department  of  a  big  station,  and  then, 
having  grown  old  and  asthmatic,  was  transferred  on  half- 
pay,  as  it  were,  to  the  Kildrummie  branch,  where  it 
puffed  between  the  junction  and  the  terminus  half  a 
dozen  times  a  day,  with  two  carriages  and  an  occasional 
coal  truck.  Times  there  were  when  wood  was  exported 
from  Kildrummie,  and  then  the  train  was  taken  down  in 
detachments,  and  it  was  a  pleasant  legend  that,  one  market 
day,  when  Drumtochty  was  down  in  force,  the  engine 
stuck,  and  Drumsheugh  invited  the  Glen  to  get  out  and 
push.  The  two  carriages  were  quite  distinguished  in 
construction,  and  had  seen  better  days.  One  consisted 
of  a  single  first-class  compartment  in  the  centre,  with  a 
bulge  of  an  imposing  appearance,  supported  on  either 
side  by  two  seconds.  As  no  native  ever  travelled  second, 
one  compartment  had  been  employed  as  a  reserve  to  the 
luggage  van,  so  that  Drumtochty  might  have  a  convenient 
place  of  deposit  for  calves,  but  the  other  was  jealously 
reserved  by  Peter  Bruce  for  strangers  with  second-class 


PEACE.  27 

tickets,  that  his  branch  might  not  be  put  to  confusion. 
The  other  carriage  was  three-fourths  third  class  and  one- 
fourth  luggage,  and  did  the  real  work ;  on  its  steps  Peter 
stood  and  dispensed  wisdom,  between  the  junction  and 
Kildrummie. 

But  neither  the  carriages  nor  the  engine  could  have 
made  history  without  the  guard,  beside  whom  the  guards 
of  the  main  line  —  even  of  the  expresses  that  ran  to 
London  —  were  as  nothing  —  fribbles  and  weaklings. 
For  the  guard  of  the  Kildrummie  branch  was  absolute 
ruler,  lording  it  over  man  and  beast  without  appeal,  and 
treating  the  Kildrummie  stationmaster  as  a  federated 
power.  Peter  was  a  short  man  of  great  breadth,  like 
unto  the  cutting  of  an  oak-tree,  with  a  penetrating  grey 
eye,  an  immovable  countenance,  and  bushy  whiskers.  It 
was  understood  that  when  the  line  was  opened,  and  the 
directors  were  about  to  fill  up  the  post  of  guard  from  a 
number  of  candidates  qualified  by  long  experience  on 
various  lines,  Peter,  who  had  been  simply  wasting  his 
time  driving  a  carrier's  cart,  came  in,  and  sitting  down 
opposite  the  board  —  two  lairds  and  a  farmer  —  looked 
straight  before  him  without  making  any  application.  It 
was  felt  by  all  in  an  instant  that  only  one  course  was 
open,  in  the  eternal  fitness  of  things.  Experience  was 
well  enough,  but  special  creation  was  better,  and  Peter 
was  immediately  appointed,  his  name  being  asked  by 
the  chairman  afterwards  as  a  formality.  From  the  be- 
ginning he  took  up  a  masterful  position,  receiving  his 
human  cargo  at  the  junction  and  discharging  it  at  the  sta- 
tion with  a  power  that  even  Drumtochty  did  not  resist,  and 
a  knowledge  of  individuals  that  was  almost  comprehensive. 
It  is  true  that,  boasting  one  Friday  evening  concern- 
ing the  "  crooded  "  state  of  the  train,  he  admitted  with 


28  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

reluctance  that  "  there  's  a  stranger  in  the  second  I  canna 
mak  oot,"  but  it  is  understood  that  he  solved  the 
problem  before  the  man  got  his  luggage  at  Kildrummie. 

Perhaps  Peter's  most  famous  achievement  was  his 
demolition  of  a  south  country  bagman,  who  had  made 
himself  unpleasant,  and  the  story  was  much  tasted  by 
our  guard's  admirers.  This  self-important  and  vivacious 
gentleman,  seated  in  the  first,  was  watching  Peter's 
leisurely  movements  on  the  Kildrummie  platform  with 
much  impatience,  and  lost  all  self-control  on  Peter  going 
outside  to  examine  the  road  for  any  distant  passenger. 

"  Look  here,  guard,  this  train  ought  to  have  left  five 
minutes  ago,  and  I  give  you  notice  that  if  we  miss  our 
connection  I  '11  hold  your  company  responsible." 

At  the  sound  of  this  foreign  voice  with  its  indecent 
clamour,  Peter  returned  and  took  up  his  position  oppo- 
site the  speaker,  while  the  staff  and  the  whole  body  of 
passengers — four  Kildrummie  and  three  Drumtochty, 
quite  sufficient  for  the  situation  —  waited  the  issue. 
Not  one  word  did  Peter  deign  to  reply,  but  he  fixed 
the  irate  traveller  with  a  gaze  so  searching,  so  awful,  so 
irresistible,  that  the  poor  man  fell  back  into  his  seat 
and  pretended  to  look  out  at  the  opposite  window. 
After  a  pause  of  thirty  seconds,  Peter  turned  to  the 
engine-driver. 

"  They  "re  a'  here  noo,  an'  there  's  nae  use  waitin' 
langer;  ca'  awa',  but  ye  needna  distress  the  engine." 

It  was  noticed  that  the  foolhardy  traveller  kept  the 
full  length  of  the  junction  between  himself  and  Peter  till 
the  Dunleith  train  came  in,  while  his  very  back  was  elo- 
quent of  humiliation,  and  Hillocks  offered  his  snuff-box 
ostentatiously  to  Peter,  which  that  worthy  accepted  as 
a  public  tribute  of  admiration. 


PETER   WAS    STANDING   IN    HIS    FAVOURITE   ATTITUDE. 


30  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Look,  Kate,  there  he  is ;  "  and  there  Peter  was, 
standing  in  his  favourite  attitude,  his  legs  wide  apart 
and  his  thumbs  in  his  armholes,  superior,  abstracted, 
motionless  till  the  train  stopped,  when  he  came  forward. 

"  Prood  tae  see  ye,  General,  coming  back  at  laist,  an' 
the  Miss  wi'  ye ;  it  '11  no  be  the  blame  o'  the  fouk  up 
by  gin  ye  bena  happy.  Drumtochty  hes  an  idea  o' 
itsel',  and  peety  the  man  'at  tries  tae  drive  them,  but 
they  're  couthy. 

"This  wy,  an'  a '11  see  tae  yir  luggage,"  and  before 
Peter  made  for  the  Dunleith  van  it  is  said  that  he  took 
off  his  cap  to  Kate ;  but  if  so,  this  was  the  only  time  he 
had  ever  shown  such  gallantry  to  a  lady. 

Certainly  he  must  have  been  flustered  by  something, 
for  he  did  not  notice  that  Carmichael,  overcome  by 
shyness  at  the  sight  of  the  Carnegies  in  the  first,  had 
hid  himself  in  the  second,  till  he  closed  the  doors ;  then 
the  Carnegies  heard  it  all. 

"  It 's  I,  Peter,"  very  quietly ;  "  your  first  has  passen- 
gers to-day,  and  ...  I  '11  just  sit  here." 

"  Come  oot  o'  that,"  after  a  moment,  during  which 
Peter  had  simply  looked ;  then  the  hat  and  the  tweeds 
came  stumbling  into  the  first,  making  some  sort  of  a  bow 
and  muttering  an  apology. 

"A '11  tak'  yir  ticket,  Maister  Carmichael,"  with 
severity.  "General,"  suddenly  relaxing,  "this  is  the 
Free  Kirk  minister  of  yir  pairish,  an'  a  'm  jidgin'  he  11 
no  try  the  second  again." 

Carmichael  lifted  his  head  and  caught  Kate's  eye,  and 
at  the  meeting  of  humour  they  laughed  aloud.  Where- 
upon the  General  said,  "  My  daughter,  Miss  Carnegie," 
and  they  became  so  friendly  before  they  reached  Kil- 
drumraie  that  Carmichael  forgot  his  disgraceful  appear- 


PEACE.  31 

ance,  and  when  the  General  offered  him  a  lift  up,  simply 
clutched  at  the  opportunity. 

The  trap  was  a  four-wheeled  dog-cart.  Kate  drove, 
with  her  father  by  her  side  and  Carmichael  behind,  but 
he  found  it  necessary  to  turn  round  to  give  information 
of  names  and  places,  and  he  so  managed  that  he  could 
catch  Kate's  profile  half  the  time. 

When  he  got  down  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  by  Hillocks' 
farm,  to  go  up  the  near  road,  instead  thereof  he  scram- 
bled along  the  ridge,  and  looked  through  the  trees  as 
the  carriage  passed  below ;  but  he  did  not  escape. 

"What's  he  glowerin'  at  doon  there?"  Hillocks  in- 
quired of  Jamie  Soutar,  to  whom  he  was  giving  some 
directions  about  a  dyke,  and  Hillocks  made  a  reconnais- 
sance. "  A  '11  warrant  that 's  the  General  and  his  doch- 
ter.  She  's  a  weel-faured  lassie  an'  speerity-lookin'." 

"It  cowes  a',"  said  Jamie  to  himself ;  "the  first  day 
he  ever  saw  her ;  but  it 's  aye  the  way,  aince  an'  ever, 
or  ...  never." 

"What's  the  Free  Kirk,  dad?"  when  Carmichael  had 
gone.  " Is  it  the  same  as  the  Methodists? " 

"  No,  no,  quite  different.  I  'm  not  up  in  those  things, 
but  I  've  heard  it  was  a  lot  of  fellows  who  would  not 
obey  the  laws,  and  so  they  left  and  made  a  kirk  for 
themselves,  where  they  do  whatever  they  like.  By  the 
way,  that  was  the  young  fellow  we  saw  giving  the  dogs 
water  at  Muirtown.  I  rather  like  him  ;  but  why  did  he 
look  such  a  fool,  and  try  to  escape  us  at  the  junction?" 

"  How  should  I  know?  I  suppose  because  he  is  a 
.  .  .  foolish  boy.  And  now,  dad,  for  the  Lodge  and 
Tochty  woods." 


CHAPTER    III. 

A    HOME    OF    MANY    GENERATIONS. 


T  was  the  custom  of 
the  former  time  to 
construct  roads  on  a 
straight  line,  with  a 
preference  for  uphill 
;md  down,  and  engi- 
neers refused  to  make 
a  circuit  of  twenty 
yards  to  secure  level 
ground.  There  were 
two  advantages  in  this 
uncompromising  prin- 
ciple of  construction, 
and  it  may  be  doubt- 
ful which  commended 
itself  most  to  the  mind 
of  our  fathers.  Roads 
were  drained  after  the  simplest  fashion,  because  a  stand- 
ing pool  in  the  hollow  had  more  than  a  compensation  in 
the  dryness  of  the  ascent  and  descent,  while  the  neces- 
sity of  sliddering  down  one  side  and  scrambling  up  the 
other  reduced  driving  to  the  safe  average  of  four  miles 
an  hour  — -  horse-doctors  forming  a  class  by  themselves, 
and  being  preserved  in  their  headlong  career  by  the 


A    HOME   OF    MANY   GENERATIONS.       33 

particular  Providence  which  has  a  genial  regard  for  per- 
sons who  have  too  little  sense  or  have  taken  too  much 
liquor.  Degenerate  descendants,  anxious  to  obtain  the 
maximum  of  speed  with  the  minimum  of  exertion,  have 
shown  a  quite  wonderful  ingenuity  in  circumventing  hills, 
so  the  road  between  Drumtochty  Manse  and  Tochty  Lodge 
gate  was  duplicated,  and  the  track  that  plunged  into  the 
hollow  was  now  forsaken  of  wheeled  traffic  and  over- 
grown with  grass. 

"  This  way,  Kate  ;  it 's  the  old  road,  and  the  way  I 
came  to  kirk  with  my  mother.  Yes,  it 's  narrow,  but 
we  '11  get  through  and  down  below  —  it  is  worth  the 
seeing." 

So  they  forced  a  passage  where  the  overgrown  hedges 
resisted  the  wheels,  and  the  trees,  wet  with  a  morning 
shower,  dashed  Kate's  jacket  with  a  pleasant  spray,  and 
the  rail  of  the  dog-cart  was  festooned  with  tendrils  of 
honeysuckle  and  wild  geranium. 

"There  is  the  parish  kirk  of  Drumtochty,"  as  they 
came  out  and  halted  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  "  and 
though  it  be  not  much  to  look  at  after  the  Norman 
churches  of  the  south,  it 's  a  brave  old  kirk  in  our  fashion, 
and  well  set  in  the  Glen." 

For  it  stood  on  a  knoll,  whence  the  ground  sloped 
down  to  the  Tochty,  and  it  lay  with  God's  acre  round 
it  in  the  shining  of  the  sun.  Half  a  dozen  old  beeches 
made  a  shadow  in  the  summer-time,  and  beat  off  the 
winter's  storms.  One  standing  at  the  west  comer  of  the 
kirkyard  had  a  fuller  and  sweeter  view  of  the  Glen  than 
could  be  got  anywhere  save  from  the  beeches  at  the 
Lodge ;  but  then  nothing  like  unto  that  can  be  seen  far 
or  near,  and  I  have  marvelled  why  painting  men  have 
never  had  it  on  their  canvas. 

3 


34  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Our  vault  is  at  the  east  end,  where  the  altar  was  in 
the  old  days,  and  there  our  dead  of  many  generations 
lie.  A  Carnegie  always  prayed  to  be  buried  with  his 
people  in  Drumtochty,  but  as  it  happened,  two  out  of 
three  of  our  house  have  fallen  on  the  field,  and  so  most 
of  us  have  not  had  our  wish. 

"Black  John,  my  great-grandfather,  was  out  in  '45, 
and  escaped  to  France.  He  married  a  Highland  lassie 
orphaned  there,  and  entered  the  French  service,  as 
many  a  Scot  did  before  him  since  the  days  of  the  Scots 
Guards.  But  when  he  felt  himself  a-dying,  he  asked 
leave  of  the  English  government  to  come  home,  and  he 
would  not  die  till  he  laid  himself  down  in  his  room  in 
the  tower.  Then  he  gave  directions  for  his  funeral,  how 
none  were  to  be  asked  of  the  county  folk  but  Drummonds 
and  Hays  and  Stewarts  from  Blair  Athole  and  such  like 
that  had  been  out  with  the  Prince.  And  he  made  his 
wife  promise  that  she  would  have  him  dressed  for  his 
coffin  as  he  fought  on  Culloden  field,  for  he  had  kept  the 
clothes. 

"Then  he  asked  that  the  window  should  be  opened 
that  he  might  hear  the  lilting  of  the  burn  below ;  and 
he  called  for  my  grandfather,  who  was  only  a  young  lad, 
and  commanded  him  to  enter  one  of  the  Scottish  regi- 
ments and  be  a  loyal  kingsman,  since  all  was  over  with 
the  Stewarts. 

"He  said  a  prayer  and  kissed  his  wife's  hand,  being  a 
courtly  gentleman,  and  died  listening  to  the  sound  of  the 
water  running  over  the  stones  in  the  den  below." 

"It  was  as  good  as  dying  on  the  field,"  said  Kate,  her 
face  flushing  with  pride ;  "  that  is  an  ancestor  worth 
remembering;  and  did  he  get  a  worthy  funeral?  " 

"  More  than  he  asked  for ;  his  old  comrades  gathered 


A    HOME   OF   MANY   GENERATIONS.       35 

from  far  and  near,  and  some  of  the  chiefs  that  were  out 
of  hiding  came  down,  and  they  brought  him  up  this  very 
road,  with  the  pipers  playing  before  the  coffin.  Fifty 
gentlemen  buried  John  Carnegie,  and  every  man  of  them 
had  been  out  with  the  Prince. 

'•'  When  they  gathered  in  the  stone  hall  you  '11  see 
soon,  his  friend-in-arms,  Patrick  Murray,  gave  three 
toasts.  The  first  was  '  the  king,'  and  every  man  bared 
his  head ;  the  second  was  '  to  him  that  is  gone ; '  the 
third  was  'to  the  friends  that  are  far  awa'j'  and  then 
one  of  the  chiefs  proposed  another,  '  to  the  men  of 
Culloden ;  '  and  after  that  every  gentleman  dashed  his 
glass  on  the  floor.  Though  he  was  only  a  little  lad  at 
the  time,  my  grandfather  never  forgot  the  sight. 

"  He  also  told  me  that  his  mother  never  shed  a  tear, 
but  looked  prouder  than  he  ever  saw  her,  and  before  they 
left  the  hall  she  bade  each  gentleman  good-bye,  and  to 
the  chief  she  spoke  in  Gaelic,  being  of  Cluny's  blood  and 
a  gallant  lady. 

"  Another  thing  she  did  also  which  the  lad  could  not 
forget,  for  she  brought  down  her  husband's  sword  from 
the  room  in  the  turret,  and  Patrick  Murray,  of  the  House 
of  Athole,  fastened  it  above  the  big  fireplace,  where  it 
hangs  unto  this  day,  crossed  now  with  my  father's,  as 
you  will  see,  Kate,  unless  we  stand  here  all  day  going 
over  old  stories." 

"  They  're  glorious  stories,  dad  ;  why  did  n't  you  tell 
them  to  me  before  ?  I  want  to  get  into  the  spirit  of  the 
past  and  feel  the  Carnegie  blood  swinging  in  my  veins 
before  we  come  to  the  Lodge.  What  did  they  do  after- 
wards, or  was  that  all?  " 

"  They  mounted  their  horses  in  the  courtyard,  and  as 
each  man  passed  out  of  the  gate  he  took  off  his  hat  and 


36  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

bowed  low  to  the  widow,  who  stood  in  a  window  I  will 
show  you,  and  watched  till  the  last  disappeared  into  the 
avenue ;  but  my  grandfather  ran  out  and  saw  them  ride 
down  the  road  in  order  of  threes,  a  goodly  company  of 
gentlemen.  But  this  sight  is  better  than  horsemen  and 
swords." 

They  were  now  in  the  hollow  between  the  kirk  and  the 
Lodge,  a  cup  of  greenery  surrounded  by  wood.  Behind, 
they  still  saw  the  belfry  through  the  beeches ;  before, 
away  to  the  right,  the  grey  stone  of  a  turret  showed 
among  the  trees.  The  burn  that  sang  to  Black  John 
ran  beneath  them  with  a  pleasant  sound,  and  fifty  yards 
of  turf  climbed  up  to  the  cottage  where  the  old  road 
joined  the  new  and  the  avenue  of  the  Lodge  began. 
Over  this  ascent  the  branches  met,  through  which 
the  sunshine  glimmered  and  flickered,  and  down  the 
centre  came  a  white  and  brown  cow  in  charge  of  an 
old  woman. 

"  It 's  Bell  Robb,  that  lives  in  the  cottage  there  among 
the  bushes.     I  was  at  the  parish  school  with  her,  Kate  — 
she  's  just  my  age  —  for  we  were  all    John    Tamson's 
bairns  in  those  days,  and  got  our  learning  and  our  licks 
together,  laird's  son  and  cottar's  daughter. 

"  People  would  count  it  a  queer  mixture  nowadays, 
but  there  were  some  advantages  in  the  former  parish 
school  idea ;  there  were  lots  of  cleverer  subalterns  in  the 
old  regiment,  but  none  knew  his  men  so  well  as  I  did. 
I  had  played  and  fought  with  their  kind.  Would  you 
mind  saying  a  word  to  Bell  .  .  .  just  her  name  or  some- 
thing? "  for  this  was  a  new  life  to  the  pride  of  the  regi- 
ment, as  they  called  Kate,  and  Carnegie  was  not  sure 
how  she  might  take  it.  Kate  was  a  lovable  lass,  but  like 
every  complete  woman,  she  had  a  temper  and  a  stock 


A   HOME   OF   MANY   GENERATIONS.       37 

of  prejudices.  She  was  good  comrade  with  all  true  men, 
although  her  heart  was  whole,  and  with  a  few  women 
that  did  not  mince  their  words  or  carry  two  faces ;  but 
Kate  had  claws  inside  the  velvet,  and  once  she  so 
handled  with  her  tongue  a  young  fellow  who  offended  her 
that  he  sent  in  his  papers.  What  she  said  was  not  much, 
but  it  was  memorable,  and  every  word  drew  blood.  Her 
father  was  never  quite  certain  what  she  would  do,  although 
he  was  always  sure  of  her  love. 

"  Do  you  suppose,  dad,  that  I  'm  to  take  up  with  all 
your  friends  of  the  jackdaw  days?  You  seem  to  have 
kept  fine  company."  Kate  was  already  out  of  the  dog- 
cart, and  now  took  Bell  by  the  hand. 

"  I  am  the  General's  daughter,  and  he  was  telling  me 
that  you  and  he  were  playmates  long  ago.  You  '11  let 
me  come  to  see  you,  and  you  '11  tell  me  all  his  exploits 
when  he  was  John  Carnegie  ?  " 

"  To  think  he  minded  me,  an'  him  sae  lang  awa'  at 
the  weary  wars."  Bell  was  between  the  laughing  and 
the  crying.  "  We  're  lifted  to  know  oor  laird 's  a  Gen- 
eral, and  that  he 's  gotten  sic  honour.  There 's  nae 
bluid  like  the  auld  bluid,  an'  the  Carnegies  cud  aye 
afford  to  be  hamely. 

"Ye  're  like  him,"  and  Bell  examined  Kate  carefully; 
"  but  a'  can  tell  yir  mitherV  dochter,  a  weel-faured 
mettlesome  lady  as  wes  ever  seen ;  wae  's  me,  wae  's 
me  for  the  wars,"  at  the  sight  of  Carnegie's  face ;  "  but 
ye  '11  come  in  to  see  Marjorie.  A  '11  mak  her  ready," 
and  Bell  hurried  into  the  cottage. 

"  Marjorie  has  been  blind  from  her  birth.  She  was 
the  pet  of  the  school,  and  now  Bell  takes  care  of  her. 
Davidson  was  telling  me  that  she  wanted  to  support 
Marjorie  off  the  wages  she  earns  as  a  fiek*  hand  on  the 


i  AM  THE  GENERAL'S  DAUGHTER.' 


A    HOME   OF    MANY   GENERATIONS.       39 

farms,  and  the  parish  had  to  force  half-a-crown  a  week 
on  them  ;  but  hear  this." 

"  Never  mind  hoo  ye  look,"  Bell  was  speaking.  "A' 
canna  keep  them  waitin'  till  ye  be  snoddit." 

"Gie  me  ma  kep,  at  ony  rate,  that  the  minister 
brocht  frae  Muirtown,  and  Drumsheugh's  shawl ;  it  wudna 
be  respectfu'  to  oor  Laird,  an'  it  his  first  veesit;"  and 
there  was  a  note  of  refinement  in  the  voice,  as  of  one 
living  apart. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  here,  Marjorie,"  and  the  General  stooped 
over  the  low  bed  where  the  old  woman  was  lying,  "  and 
this  is  my  daughter,  the  only  child  left  me  ;  you  would 
hear  that  all  my  boys  were  killed." 

"  We  did  that,  and  we  were  a'  wae  for  ye ;  a'  thocht 
o'  ye  and  a'  saw  ye  in  yir  sorrow,  for  them  'at  canna  see 
ootside  see  the  better  inside.  But  it  '11  be  some  com- 
fort to  be  in  the  hame  o'  yir  people  aince  mair,  and  to 
ken  ye  Ve  dune  yir  wark  weel.  It 's  pleasant  for  us  to 
think  the  licht  '11  be  burnin'  in  the  windows  o'  the 
Lodge  again,  and  that  ye  're  come  back  aifter  the  wars. 

"  Miss  Kate,  wull  ye  lat  me  pass  ma  hand  ower  yir 
face,  an'  then  a  '11  ken  what  like  ye  are  better  nor  some 
'at  hes  the  joy  o'  seein'  ye  wi'  their  een.  .  .  .  The  Glen 
'11  be  the  happier  for  the  sicht  o'  ye ;  a'  thank  ye  for  yir 
kindness  to  a  puir  woman." 

"  If  you  begin  to  pay  compliments,  Marjorie,  I  '11  tell 
you  what  I  think  of  that  cap  ;  for  the  pink  is  just  the  very 
shade  for  your  complexion,  and  it 's  a  perfect  shape." 

"  Ma  young  minister,  Maister  Carmichael,  seleckit  it 
in  Muirtown,  an'  a'  heard  that  he  went  ower  sax  shops  to 
find  one  to  his  fancy ;  he  never  forgets  me,  an'  he  wrote 
me  a  letter  on  his  holiday.  A'body  likes  him  for  his 
bonnie  face  an'  honest  ways." 


40  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"Oh,  I  know  him  already,  Marjorie,  for  he  drove  up 
with  us,  and  I  thought  him  very  nice ;  but  we  must  go> 
for  you  know  I  've  not  yet  seen  our  home,  and  I  'm  just 
tingling  with  curiosity." 

"  You  '11  not  leave  without  breakin'  bread ;  it 's  little 
we  hae,  but  we  can  offer  ye  oat-cake  an'  milk  in  token 
o'  oor  loyalty ;  "  and  then  Bell  brought  the  elements  of 
Scottish  food  ;  and  when  Marjorie's  lips  moved  in  prayer 
as  they  ate,  it  seemed  to  Carnegie  and  his  daughter  like 
a  sacrament.  So  the  two  went  from  the  fellowship  of 
the  poor  to  their  ancient  house. 

They  drove  along  the  avenue  between  the  stately 
beeches  that  stood  on  either  side  and  reached  out  their 
branches,  almost  but  not  quite  unto  meeting,  so  that  the 
sun,  now  in  the  south,  made  a  train  of  light  down  which 
the  General  and  Kate  came  home.  At  the  end  of  the 
beeches  the  road  wheeled  to  the  right,  and  Kate  saw  for 
the  first  time  the  dwelling-place  of  her  people.  Tochty 
Lodge  was  of  the  fourth  period  of  Scottish  castellated 
architecture,  and  till  it  fell  into  disrepair  was  a  very  per- 
fect example  of  the  sixteenth  century  mansion-house, 
where  strength  of  defence  could  not  yet  be  dispensed 
with,  for  the  Carnegies  were  too  near  the  Highland  bor- 
der to  do  without  thick  walls  or  to  risk  habitation  on  the 
ground  floor.  The  buildings  had  first  been  erected  on 
the  L  plan,  and  then  had  been  made  into  a  quadrangle, 
so  that  on  the  left  was  the  main  part,  with  a  tower  at  the 
south-west  corner  over  the  den,  and  a  wing  at  the  south- 
east coming  out  to  meet  the  gate.  On  the  north-east 
and  north  were  a  tower  and  rooms  now  in  ruins,  and 
along  the  west  ran  a  wall  some  six  feet  high  with  a  stone 
walk  three  feet  from  the  top,  whence  you  could  look 
down  on  the  burn.  A  big  gateway,  whose  doors  were  of 


A    HOME    OF    MANY   GENERATIONS.       41 

oak  studded  with  nails,  with  a  grated  lattice  for  observa- 
tion, gave  entrance  to  the  courtyard.  In  the  centre  of 
the  yard  there  was  an  ancient  oak  and  a  draw  well  whose 
water  never  failed.  The  eastern  face  was  bare  of  ivy, 
except  at  the  north  corner,  where  stood  the  jackdaws' 
tower;  but  the  rough  grey  stone  was  relieved  by  the 
tendrils  and  red  blossoms  of  the  hardy  tropseolum  which 
despises  the  rich  soil  of  the  south  and  the  softer  air,  and 
grows  luxuriantly  on  our  homely  northern  houses.  As 
they  came  to  the  gateway,  the  General  bade  Kate  pull 
up  and  read  the  scroll  above,  which  ran  in  clear-cut 
letters  — 

TRY  AND  THEN 
TRVST • BETTER  GVDE 

ASSVRANCE 

BOT  TRUST  NOT 

OR  •  YE  •  TRY  •  FOR  •  FEAR 

OF  •  REPENTANCE. 

"  We  've  been  a  slow  dour  race,  Kit,  who  never  gave 
our  heart  lightly,  but  having  given  it,  never  played  the 
traitor.  Fortune  has  not  favoured  us,  for  acre  after  acre 
has  gone  from  our  hands,  but,  thank  God,  we  've  never 
had  dishonour." 

"And  never  will,  dad,  for  we  are  the  last  of  the  race." 

Janet  Macpherson  was  waiting  in  the  deep  doorway  of 
the  tower,  and  gave  Kate  welcome  as  one  whose  ances- 
tors had  for  four  generations  served  the  Carnegies,  since 
the  day  Black  John  had  married  a  Macpherson. 

"Calf  of  my  heart,"  she  cried,  and  took  Kate  in  her 
arms.  "  It  is  your  foster-mother  that  will  be  glad  to  see 
you  in  the  home  of  your  people,  and  will  be  praying  that 
God  will  give  you  peace  and  good  days." 


JANET   MACPHERSON   WAS   WAITING    IN   THE    DEEP    DOORWAY. 


A    HOME    OF   MANY   GENERATIONS.       43 

Then  they  went  up  the  winding  stone  stair,  with  deep, 
narrow  windows,  and  came  into  the  dining-hall  where 
the  fifty  Jacobites  toasted  the  king  and  many  a  gathering 
had  taken  place  in  the  olden  time.  It  was  thirty-five 
feet  long  by  fifteen  broad,  and  twenty-two  feet  high. 
The  floor  was  of  flags  over  arches  below,  and  the  bare 
stone  walls  showed  at  the  windows  and  above  the  black 
oak  panelling  which  reached  ten  feet  from  the  •  round. 
The  fireplace  was  six  feet  high,  and  so  wide  1  at  two 
could  sit  on  either  side  within.  Upon  the  ma  celpiece 
the  Carnegie  arms  stood  out  in  bold  relief  under  the  two 
crossed  swords.  One  or  two  portraits  of  dead  Carnegies 
and  some  curious  weapons  broke  the  monotony  of  the 
walls,  and  from  the  roof  hung  a  finely  wrought  iron  can- 
delabra. The  western  portion  of  the  hall  was  separated 
by  a  screen  of  open  woodwork,  and  made  a  pleasant 
dining-room.  A  door  in  the  corner  led  into  the  tower, 
which  had  a  library,  with  Carnegie's  bedroom  above,  and 
higher  still  Kate's  room,  each  with  a  tiny  dressing  closet. 
For  the  Carnegies  always  lived  together  in  this  tower, 
and  their  guests  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall.  The  library 
had  two  windows.  From  one  you  could  look  down  and 
see  nothing  but  the  foliage  of  the  den,  with  a  gleam  of 
water  where  the  burn  made  a  pool,  and  from  the  other 
you  looked  over  a  meadow  with  big  trees  to  the  Tochty 
sweeping  round  a  bend,  and  across  to  the  high  opposite 
banks  covered  with  brush-wood.  First  they  visited 
Carnegie's  room. 

"  Here  have  we  been  born,  and  died  if  we  did  not 
fall  in  battle,  and  it 's  not  a  bad  billet  after  all  for  an 
old  soldier.  Yes,  that  is  your  mother  when  we  were 
married,  but  I  like  this  one  better,"  and  the  General 
touched  his  breast,  for  he  carried  his  love  next  his  heart 
in  a  silver  locket  of  Indian  workmanship. 


44  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Three  fine  deerskins  lay  on  the  floor,  and  one  side  of 
the  room  was  hung  with  tapestry ;  but  the  most  striking 
piece  of  furnishing  in  the  room  was  an  oak  cupboard, 
sunk  a  foot  into  the  wall. 

"  I  '11  show  you  something  in  that  cabinet  after 
luncheon,  Kate ;  but  now  let 's  see  your  room." 

"  How  beautiful,  and  how  cunning  you  have  been," 
and  th  n.  she  took  an  inventory  of  the  furniture,  all  new, 
but  all  in  keeping  with  the  age  of  the  room.  "You 
have  sp  nt  far  too  much  on  a  very  self-willed  and  bad- 
tempered  girl,  and  all  I  can  do  is  to  make  you  promise 
that  you  will  come  up  here  sometimes  and  let  me  give 
you  tea  in  this  window-seat,  where  we  can  see  the  woods 
and  the  Tochty." 

"Well,  Donald,"  said  the  General  at  table  to  his 
faithful  servant,  "  how  do  you  think  Drumtochty  will 
suit  you  ?  " 

"  Any  place  where  you  and  Miss  Kate  will  be  living  iss 
a  good  place  for  me,  and  there  are  six  or  maybe  four 
men  I  hef  been  meeting  that  hef  the  language,  but  not 
good  Gaelic  —  just  poor  Perthshire  talk,"  for  Donald  was 
a  West  Highlander,  and  prided  himself  on  his  better 
speech. 

"  And  what  about  a  kirk,  Donald  ?  Are  n't  you  Free 
like  Janet?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am  Free ;  but  it  iss  not  to  that  kirk  I  will 
be  going  most  here,  and  I  am  telling  Janet  that  she  will 
be  caring  more  about  a  man  that  hass  a  pleasant  way 
with  him  than  about  the  truth." 

"  What 's  wrong  with  things,  Donald,  since  we  lay  in 
Edinburgh  twenty  years  ago,  and  you  used  to  give  me 
bits  of  the  Free  Kirk  sermons?" 

"  It  iss  all  wrong  that  they  hef  been  going  these  last 


A    HOME   OF   MANY   GENERATIONS.       45 

years,  for  they  stand  to  sing  and  they  sit  to  pray,  and 
they  will  be  using  human  himes.  And  it  iss  great 
pieces  of  the  Bible  they  hef  cut  out,  and  I  am  told  that 
they  are  not  done  yet,  but  are  going  from  bad  to  worse," 
and  Donald  invited  questioning. 

"What  more  are  they  after,  man?  " 

"  It  will  be  myself  that  has  found  it  out,  and  it  iss 
only  what  might  be  expected,  but  I  am  not  saying  that 
you  will  be  believing  me." 

"  Out  with  it,  Donald ;  let 's  hear  what  kind  of  people 
we  've  come  amongst." 

"  They  've  been  just  fairly  left  to  themselves,  and  the 
godless  bodies  hef  taken  to  watering  the  whisky." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

A   SECRET   CHAMBER. 


HE  cabinet  now,  dad, 
and  at  once,"  when  they 
went  up  the  stairs  and  were 
standing  in  the  room.  "  Just 
give  me  three  guesses  about 
the  mystery ;  but  first  let  me 
examine." 

It  was  pretty  to  see  Kate 
opening  the  doors,  curiously 
carved  with  hunting  scenes,  and 
searching  the  interior,  tapping 
with  her  knuckles  and  listening 
for  a  hollow  sound. 

"  Is  it  a  treasure  we  are  to  find  ? 
Then  that 's  one   point.     Not   in 
the  cabinet  ?     I  have  it ;  there  is 
a  door  into  some  other  place;  am  n't  I  right?" 

"  Where  could  it  be  ?  We  're  in  a  tower  cut  off 
from  the  body  of  the  Lodge,  with  a  room  above  and  a 
room  below ;"  and  the  General  sat  down  to  allow  full 
investigation. 

After  many  journeys  up  and  down  the  stair,  and  many 
questions  that  brought  no  light,  Kate  played  a  woman's 
trick  up  in  her  room. 


A   SECRET   CHAMBER.  47 

"  The  General  wishes  to  show  me  the  concealed  room 
in  this  tower,  Janet,  or  whatever  you  call  it.  Would  you 
kindly  tell  us  how  to  get  entrance  ?  You  need  n't  come 
down ;  just  explain  to  me ;  "  and  Kate  was  very  pleasant 
indeed. 

"  Yes,  I  am  hearing  there  iss  a  room  in  the  tower, 
Miss  Kate,  that  strangers  will  not  be  able  to  find ;  and 
it  would  be  very  curious  if  the  Carnegies  did  not  have 
a  safe  place  for  an  honest  gentleman  when  he  wass  in  a 
little  trouble.  All  the  good  houses  will  have  their  secret 
places,  and  it  will  not  be  easy  to  find  some  of  them.  Oh 
no ;  now  I  will  remember  one  at  Glamis  Castle.  ..." 

"  Never  mind  Glamis,  nurse,  for  the  General  is  waiting. 
Where  is  the  spring?  is  it  in  the  oak  cabinet?" 

"  It  will  be  good  for  the  General  to  be  resting  himself 
after  his  luncheon,  and  he  will  be  thinking  many  things 
in  his  room.  Oh  yes,"  continued  Janet,  settling  herself 
down  to  narrative,  and  giving  no  heed  to  Kate's  beguil- 
ing ways,  "  old  Mary  that  died  near  a  hundred  would  be 
often  telling  me  stories  of  the  old  days  when  I  wass 
a  little  girl,  and  the  one  I  liked  best  wass  about  the 
hiding  of  the  Duke  of  Perth." 

"  You  will  tell  me  that  to-morrow,  when  I  come  down 
to  see  your  house,  Janet,  and  to-day  you  '11  tell  me  how 
to  open  the  spring." 

"  But  it  would  be  a  pity  not  to  finish  the  story  about 
the  Duke  of  Perth,  for  it  goes  well,  and  it  will  be  good 
for  a  Carnegie  to  hear  it."  And  Kate  flung  herself  into 
the  window-seat,  but  was  hugely  interested  all  the  same. 

"  Mary  wass  sitting  at  her  door  in  the  evening,  and 
that  would  be  three  days  after  Culloden,  for  the  news 
had  been  sent  by  a  sure  hand  from  the  Laird,  when  a 
man  came  riding  along  the  road,  and  as  soon  as  Mary 


48  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

saw  him  she  knew  he  wass  somebody ;  but  perhaps  it 
will  be  too  long  a  story,"  and  Janet  began  to  arrange 
dresses  in  a  wardrobe. 

"  No,  no  ;  as  you  have  begun  it,  I  want  to  hear  the 
end ;  but  quick,  for  there  's  the  room  to  see  and  the 
rest  of  the  Lodge  before  it  grows  dark.  What  like  was 
he?" 

"  He  wass  a  man  that  looked  as  if  he  would  be  com- 
manding, but  his  clothes  were  common  grey,  and  stained 
with  the  road.  He  wass  very  tired,  and  could  hardly 
hold  himself  up  in  the  saddle,  and  his  horse  wass  covered 
with  foam.  '  Is  this  Tochty  Lodge  ? '  he  asked,  soft- 
ening his  voice  as  one  trying  to  speak  humbly.  '  I  am 
passing  this  way,  and  have  a  message  for  Mistress  Car- 
negie ;  think  you  that  I  can  have  speech  of  her  quietly  ?  ' 

"  So  Mary  will  go  up  and  tell  the  lady  that  one  wass 
waiting  to  see  her,  and  that  he  seemed  a  noble  gentle- 
man. When  they  came  down  to  the  courtyard  he  had 
drawn  water  for  his  horse  from  the  well,  and  wass  giv- 
ing him  to  drink,  thinking  more  of  the  beast  that  had 
borne  him  than  of  his  own  need,  as  became  a  man  of 
birth. 

"  At  the  sight  of  the  lady  he  took  off  his  bonnet  and 
bowed  low,  and  asked  if  he  might  hef  a  private  audi- 
ence, to  which  Mistress  Carnegie  replied,  'We  are 
private  here,'  and  asked,  *  Have  you  been  with  my 
son?' 

" '  We  fought  together  for  the  Prince  three  days  since 
—  my  name  is  Perth.  I  am  escaping  for  my  life,  and 
desire  a  brief  rest,  if  it  please  you,  and  bring  no  danger 
to  your  house.' 

" '  Ye  had  been  welcome,  my  Lord  Duke,'  and  Mary 
used  to  show  how  her  mistress  straightened  herself, 


A    SECRET   CHAMBER.  49 

'  though  you  were  the  poorest  soldier  that  had  drawn  his 
sword  for  the  good  cause,  and  ye  will  stay  here  till  it  be 
safe  for  you  to  escape  to  France.' 

"  He  wass  four  weeks  hidden  in  the  room,  and 
although  the  soldiers  searched  all  the  house,  they  could 
never  find  the  place,  and  Mrs.  Carnegie  put  scorn  upon 
them,  asking  why  they  did  her  so  much  honour  and 
whom  they  sought.  Oh  yes,  it  wass  a  cunning  place  for 
the  bad  times,  and  you  will  be  pleased  to  see  it." 

"  And  the  secret,  Janet,"  cried  Kate,  her  hand  upon 
the  door ;  "  you  know  it  quite  well." 

"  So  does  the  General,  Catherine  of  my  heart,"  said 
Janet,  "and  he  will  be  liking  to  show  it  himself." 

So  Kate  departed  in  a  rage,  and  gave  orders  that 
there  be  no  more  delay,  for  she  would  not  spend  an 
afternoon  seeking  for  rat-holes. 

"  No  rat-hole,  Kit,  but  a  very  fair  chamber  for  a 
hunted  man ;  it  is  twenty  years  and  more  since  this  door 
opened  last,  for  none  knows  the  trick  of  it  save  Janet 
and  myself.  There  it  goes." 

A  panel  in  the  back  of  the  cabinet  slid  aside  behind 
its  neighbour  and  left  a  passage  through  which  one 
could  squeeze  himself  with  an  effort. 

"  We  go  up  a  stair  now,  and  must  have  light ;  a 
candle  will  do ;  the  air  is  perfectly  pure,  for  there  's 
plenty  of  ventilation  ;  "  and  then  they  crept  up  by  steps 
in  the  thickness  of  the  walls,  till  they  stood  in  a  chamber 
under  six  feet  high,  but  otherwise  as  large  as  the  bed- 
room below.  The  walls  were  lined  with  wood,  and 
there  were  two  tiny  slits  that  gave  air,  but  hardly  any 
light.  The  only  furniture  in  the  room  was  an  oaken 
chest,  clasped  with  iron  and  curiously  locked. 

"  Our  plate  chest,  Kit ;  but  there 's  not  much  silver  and 

4 


5° 


KATE   CARNEGIE. 


gold  in  it,  worse  luck  for  you,  lassie  ;  in  fact,  we  're  a 
pack  of  fools  to  set  store  by  it.  There  's  nothing  in  the 
kist  but  some  old  clothes,  and  perhaps  some  buckles 
and  such  like.  I  dare  say  there  is  a  lock  of  hair  also. 
Some  day  we  will  have  a  look  inside." 


"IT'S   A   DIFFICULT    KEY    TO    TURN." 

"To-day,  instantly,"  and  Kate  shook  her  father. 
"  You  are  a  dreadful  hypocrite,  for  I  can  see  that  you 
would  rather  Tochty  were  burned  down  than  this  box 
be  lost.  Are  there  any  relics  of  Prince  Charlie  in  it? 
Quick." 

"  Be  patient ;  it 's  a  difficult  key  to  turn  ;  there  now ;  " 
but  there  was  not  much  to  see —  only  pieces  of  woollen 
cloth  tightly  folded  down. 


A   SECRET   CHAMBER.  51 

"  Call  Janet,  Kate,  for  she  ought  to  see  this  opening, 
and  we  '11  carry  everything  down  to  my  room,  for  no 
one  could  tell  what  like  things  are  in  this  gloom.  Yes, 
Perth  lived  here  for  weeks,  and  used  to  go  up  to  the 
gallery  where  Black  John's  mother  sat  with  her  maid  ;  but 
the  son  was  hiding  in  the  North,  and  never  reached  his 
house  till  he  came  to  die." 

First  of  all  they  came  upon  a  ball  dress  of  the  former 
time,  of  white  silk,  with  a  sash  of  Macpherson  tartan, 
besides  much  fine  lace. 

"  That  is  the  dress  your  great-grandmother  wore  as  a 
bride  at  the  Court  of  Versailles  in  the  fifties.  She  was 
only  a  lassie,  and  seemed  like  her  husband's  daughter. 
The  Prince  danced  with  her,  and  they  counted  the  dress 
something  to  be  kept,  and  that  night  Locheil  and  Cluny 
also  had  a  reel  with  Sheena  Carnegie,  while  Black  John 
looked  like  a  young  man,  for  he  had  been  too  sorely 
wounded  to  be  able  to  dance  with  her  himself."  And 
then  the  General  carried  down  with  his  own  hands  a 
Highland  gentleman's  evening  dress,  trews  of  the  Royal 
tartan,  and  a  velvet  coat  with  silver  buttons,  and  a  light 
plaid  of  fine  cloth. 

"  And  this  was  her  husband's  dress  that  night ;  but 
why  the  Stewart  tartan?" 

"  No,  lassie,  that  is  the  suit  the  Prince  wore  at  Holy- 
rood,  where  he  gave  a  great  ball  after  Prestonpans,  and 
danced  with  the  Edinburgh  ladies.  It  was  smuggled 
across  to  France  at  last  with  other  things  of  the  Prince's, 
and  he  gave  it  to  Carnegie.  '  It  will  remind  you  of  our 
great  days,'  he  said,  '  when  the  Stewarts  saw  their 
friends  in  Maiy's  Palace.'  " 

Last  of  all,  the  General  lifted  out  a  casket  and  laid  it 
on  his  table.  Within  it  was  a  brooch,  such  as  might  once 


52  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

have  been  worn  either  by  a  man  or  a  woman ;  diamonds 
set  in  gold,  and  in  the  midst  a  lock  of  fair  hair. 

"Is  it  really,  father?  ..."  And  Kate  took  the 
jewel  in  her  hand. 

"  Yes,  the  Prince's  hair  —  his  wedding  present  to 
Sheena  Macpherson." 

Kate  kissed  it  fervently,  and  passed  it  to  Janet,  who 
placed  it  carefully  in  the  box,  while  the  General  made 
believe  to  laugh. 

"  Your  mother  wore  the  brooch  on  great  occasions, 
and  you  will  do  the  same,  Kit,  for  auld  lang  syne. 
There  are  two  or  three  families  left  in  Perthshire  that 
will  like  to  see  it  on  your  breast." 

"  Yes,  and  there  will  maybe  be  more  than  two  or 
three  that  will  like  to  see  the  lady  that  wears  it."  This 
from  Janet. 

"Your  compliments  are  a  little  late,  and  you  may 
keep  them  to  yourself,  Janet ;  it  would  have  been  kinder 
to  tell  me.  ...  " 

"Tell  you  what?"  And  the  General  looked  very 
provoking. 

"  I  hate  to  be  beaten."  Kate  first  looked  angry,  and 
then  laughed.  "  What  else  is  there  to  see?  " 

"  There  is  the  gallery,  which  is  the  one  feature  in  our 
poor  house,  and  we  will  try  to  reach  it  from  the  Duke's 
hiding-place,  for  it  was  a  cleverly  designed  hole,  and 
had  its  stair  up  as  well  as  down."  And  then  they  all 
came  out  into  one  of  the  strangest  rooms  you  could  find 
in  Scotland,  and  one  that  left  a  pleasant  picture  in  their 
minds  who  had  seen  it  lit  of  a  winter  night,  and  the 
wood  burning  on  the  hearth,  and  Kate  dancing  a  reel 
with  Lord  Hay  or  some  other  brisk  young  man,  while  the 
General  looked  on  from  one  of  the  deep  window  recesses. 


A   SECRET   CHAMBER.  53 

The  gallery  extended  over  the  hall  and  Kate's  draw- 
ing-room, and  measured  fifty  feet  long  from  end  to  end. 
The  upper  part  of  the  walls  was  divided  into  compart- 
ments by  an  arcading,  made  of  painted  pilasters  and  flat 
arches.  Each  compartment  had  a  motto,  and  this  was 
on  one  side  of  the  fireplace  : 

A  •  nice  •  wyfe  •  and 

A  •  back  •  doore 
Oft  •  maketh  •  a  rich 

Man  •  poore. 

And  on  the  other  :  — 

Give  liberalye 
To  neidfvl  •  folke  • 
Denye  •  nane  •  of  • 
Them  •  al  •  for  •  litle 
Thow  •  knawest  •  heir 
In  •  this  lyfe  •  of  what 
Chaunce  •  may  •  the 
Befall. 

The  glory  of  the  gallery,  however,  was  its  ceiling, 
which  was  of  the  seventeenth  century  work,  and  so  won- 
derful that  many  learned  persons  used  to  come  and  study 
it.  After  the  great  disaster  when  the  Lodge  was  sold 
and  allowed  to  fall  to  pieces,  this  fine  work  went  first, 
and  now  no  one  examining  its  remains  could  have  imag- 
ined how  wonderful  it  was,  and  in  its  own  way  how 
beautiful.  This  ceiling  was  of  wood,  painted,  and  semi- 
elliptical  in  form,  and  one  wet  day,  when  we  knew  not 
what  else  to  do,  Kate  and  I  counted  more  than  three 
hundred  panels.  It  was  an  arduous  labour  for  the  neck, 
and  the  General  refused  to  help  us ;  but  I  am  sure  that 
we  did  not  make  too  many,  for  we  worked  time  about, 
while  the  General  took  note  of  the  figures,  and  our  plan 


54  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

was  that  each  finished  his  tale  of  work  at  some  amazing 
beast,  so  that  we  could  make  no  mistake.  Some  of  the 
panels  were  circles,  and  they  were  filled  in  with  coats-of- 
arms ;  some  were  squares  and  they  contained  a  bestiary 
of  that  day.  It  was  hard  indeed  to  decide  whether  the 
circles  or  the  squares  were  more  interesting.  The  former 
had  the  arms  of  every  family  in  Scotland  that  had  the 
remotest  connection  with  the  Carnegies,  and  besides 
swept  in  a  wider  field,  comprising  David,  King  of  Israel, 
who  was  placed  near  Hector  of  Troy,  and  Arthur  of 
Brittany  not  far  from  Moses  —  all  of  whom  had  appro- 
priate crests  and  mottoes.  In  the  centre  were  the  arms 
of  our  'Lord  Christ  as  Emperor  of  Judea,  and  the  chief 
part  of  them  was  the  Cross.  But  it  came  upon  one  with 
a  curious  shock  to  see  this  coat  among  the  shields  of 
Scottish  nobles.  There  were  beasts  that  could  be  recog- 
nised at  once,  and  these  were  sparingly  named ;  but 
others  were  astounding,  and  above  them  were  inscribed 
titles  such  as  these :  Shoe-lyon,  Musket,  Ostray ;  and 
one  fearsome  animal  in  the  centre  was  designated  the 
Ram  of  Arabia.  This  display  of  heraldry  and  natural 
history  was  reinforced  by  the  cardinal  virtues  in  seven- 
teenth century  dress :  Charitas  as  an  elderly  female  of 
extremely  forbidding  aspect,  receiving  two  very  imper- 
fectly clad  children ;  and  Temperantia  as  a  furious- 
looking  person  —  male  on  the  whole  rather  than  female 
—  pouring  some  liquor  —  surely  water  —  from  a  jug  into 
a  cup,  with  averted  face,  and  leaving  little  to  be  desired. 
The  afternoon  sun  shining  in  through  a  western  window 
and  lingering  among  the  black  and  white  tracery,  so 
that  the  marking  of  a  shield  came  into  relief  or  a  beast 
suddenly  glared  down  on  one,  had  a  weird,  old-world 
effect. 


A   SECRET   CHAMBER.  55 

"  It 's  half  an  armoury  and  half  a  menagerie,"  said 
Kate,  "  and  I  think  we  '11  have  tea  in  the  library  with 
the  windows  open  to  the  Glen."  And  so  they  sat 
together  in  quietness,  with  books  of  heraldry  and  sport 
and  ancient  Scottish  classics  and  such  like  round  them, 
while  Janet  went  out  and  in. 

"  So  Donald  has  been  obliged  to  leave  his  kirk ;  "  for 
Kate  had  not  yet  forgiven  Janet.  "  He  says  it  'B  very 
bad  here ;  I  hope  you  won't  go  to  such  a  place." 

"  What  would  Donald  Macdonald  be  saying  against 
it?"  inquired  Janet,  severely. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  remember  —  lots  of  things.  He  thought 
you  were  making  too  much  of  the  minister." 

"  The  minister  iss  a  good  man,  and  hass  some  High- 
land blood  in  him,  though  he  hass  lost  his  Gaelic,  and 
he  will  be  very  pleasant  in  the  house.  If  I  wass  seeing 
a  sheep,  and  it  will  be  putting  on  this  side  and  that,  and 
quarrelling  with  everybody,  do  you  know  what  I  will  be 
thinking?" 

"That's  Donald,  I  suppose;  well?" 

"  I  will  say  to  myself,  that  sheep  iss  a  goat."  And 
Janet  left  the  room  with  the  laurels  of  victory. 


CHAPTER   V. 

CONCERNING   BESOMS. 

,T  is  one  of  the  miseries  of  modern 
life,  for  which  telephones  are  less 
than  compensation,  that  ninety 
out  of  a  hundred  city  folk  have 
never  known  the  comfort  and 
satisfaction  of  dwelling  in  a  house. 
When  the  sashes  are  flying  away 
from  the  windows  and  the  skirt- 
ing boards  from  the  floor,  and  the  planks 
below  your  feet  are  a  finger  breadth 
apart,  and  the  pipes  are  death-traps,  it 
does  not  matter  that  the  walls  are  cov- 
ered by  art  papers  and  plastered  over 
with  china  dishes.  This  erection,  wherein 
human  beings  have  to  live  and  work  and 
fight  their  sins  and  prepare  for  eternity, 
is  a  fraud  and  a  lie.  No  man  compelled  to  exist  in  such 
an  environment  of  unreality  can  respect  himself  or  other 
people  ;  and  if  it  come  to  pass  that  he  holds  cheap  views 
of  life,  and  reads  smart  papers,  and  does  sharp  things  in 
business,  and  that  his  talk  be  only  a  clever  jingle,  then  a 
plea  in  extenuation  will  be  lodged  for  him  at  the  Great 
Assize.  Small  wonder  that  he  comes  to  regard  the 
world  of  men  as  an  empty  show  and  is  full  of  cynicism, 
who  has  shifted  at  brief  intervals  from  one  shanty  to  an- 


--- 


CONCERNING   BESOMS.  57 

other  and  never  had  a  fit  dwelling-place  all  his  years. 
When  a  prophet  cometh  from  the  Eternal  to  speak  unto 
modern  times  as  Dante  did  unto  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
constructs  the  other  world  before  our  eyes,  he  will  have 
one  circle  in  his  hell  for  the  builders  of  rotten  houses, 
and  doubtless  it  will  be  a  collection  of  their  own  works, 
so  that  their  sin  will  be  its  punishment,  as  is  most  fitting 
and  the  way  of  things. 

Surely  there  will  also  be  some  corner  of  heaven  kept 
for  the  man  who,  having  received  a  charge  to  build  the 
shell  wherein  two  people  were  to  make  a  home,  laid  its 
foundations  deep  and  raised  strong  walls  that  nothing 
but  gunpowder  could  rend  in  pieces,  and  roofed  it  over 
with  oaken  timber  and  lined  it  with  the  same,  so  that 
many  generations  might  live  therein  in  peace  and 
honour.  Such  a  house  was  the  Lodge  in  those  days, 
although  at  last  beginning  to  show  signs  of  decay,  and  it 
somehow  stirred  up  the  heroic  spirit  of  the  former  time 
within  a  man  to  sit  before  the  big  fire  in  the  hall,  with 
grim  Carnegies  looking  down  from  the  walls  and  daring 
you  to  do  any  meanness,  while  the  light  blazing  out  from 
a  log  was  flung  back  from  a  sword  that  had  been  drawn 
in  the  '15.  One  was  unconsciously  reinforced  in  the 
secret  place  of  his  manhood,  and  inwardly  convinced 
that  what  concerneth  every  man  is  not  whether  he  fail 
or  succeed,  but  that  he  do  his  duty  according  to  the  light 
which  may  have  been  given  him  until  he  die.  It  was  also 
a  regeneration  of  the  soul  to  awake  in  a  room  of  the  east- 
ern tower,  where  the  Carnegies'  guests  slept,  and  fling 
up  the  window,  with  its  small  square  panes,  to  fill  one's 
lungs  with  the  snell  northern  air,  and  look  down  on  the 
woods  glistening  in  every  leaf,  and  the  silver  Tochty  just 
touched  by  the  full  risen  sun.  Miracles  have  been 


58  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

wrought  in  that  tower,  for  it  happened  once  that  an 
Edinburgh  advocate  came  to  stay  at  the  Lodge,  who 
spake  after  a  quite  marvellous  fashion,  known  neither  in 
England  nor  Scotland  ;  and  being  himself  of  pure  bour- 
geois blood,  the  fifth  son  of  a  factor,  felt  it  necessary  to 
despise  his  land,  from  its  kirk  downwards,  and  had  a 
collection  of  japes  at  Scottish  ways,  which  in  his  provin- 
cial simplicity  he  offered  to  the  Carnegies.  It  seemed 
to  him  certain  that  people  of  Jacobite  blood  and  many 
travels  would  have  relished  his  clever  talk,  for  it  is  not 
given  to  a  national  decadent  to  understand  either  the 
people  he  has  deserted  or  the  ancient  houses  at  whose 
door  he  stands.  Carnegie  was  the  dullest  man  living  in 
the  matter  of  sneering,  and  Kate  took  an  instant  dislike 
to  the  mincing  little  man,  whom  she  ever  afterwards 
called  the  Popinjay,  and  so  handled  him  with  her  tongue 
that  his  superiority  was  mightily  shaken.  But  there  was 
good  stuff  in  the  advocate,  besides  some  brains,  and  after 
a  week's  living  in  the  Lodge,  he  forgot  to  wear  his  eye- 
glass, and  let  his  r's  out  of  captivity,  and  attempted  to 
make  love  to  Kate,  which  foolishness  that  masterful 
damsel  brought  to  speedy  confusion.  It  was  also  said 
that  when  he  went  back  to  the  Parliament  House,  every 
one  could  understand  what  he  said,  and  that  he  got  two 
briefs  in  one  week,  which  shows  how  good  it  is  to  live  in 
an  ancient  house  with  honest  people. 

"Is  there  a  ghost,  dad?"  They  were  sitting  before 
the  fire  in  the  hall  after  dinner  —  Kate  in  her  favourite 
posture,  leaning  forward  and  nursing  her  knee.  The 
veterans  and  I  thought  that  she  always  looked  at  her 
best  so,  with  her  fine  eyes  fixed  on  the  fire,  and  the  light 
bringing  her  face  into  relief  against  the  shadow.  We 
saw  her  feet  then  —  one  lifted  a  little  from  the  ground  — 


CONCERNING   BESOMS. 


59 


and  V.  C.  declared  they  were  the  smallest  you  could  find 
for  a  woman  of  her  size. 

"She   knows  it,  too,"  he  used  to  say,  "for  when  a 


KATE    IN    HER    FAVOURITE   POSITION. 

woman  has  big  feet  she  always  keeps  them  tucked  in 
below  her  gown.  A  woman  with  an  eight-size  glove  and 
feet  to  correspond  is  usually  a  paragon  of  modesty,  and 
strong  on  women's  rights." 


60  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Kate's  glove  is  number  six,  and  I  think  it 's  a  size 
too  big,"  broke  in  the  Colonel  —  we  were  all  lying  in  the 
sun  on  a  bank  below  the  beeches  at  the  time,  and  the 
Colonel  was  understood  to  be  preparing  a  sermon  for 
some  meeting  — "  but  it 's  a  strong  little  hand,  and  a 
steady ;  she  used  to  be  able  to  strike  a  shilling  in  the  air 
at  revolver  practice." 

"  Ghost,  lassie.  Oh,  in  the  Lodge,  a  Carnegie  ghost 
—  not  one  I  've  ever  heard  of;  so  you  may  sleep  in 
peace,  and  I  'm  below  if  you  feel  lonely  the  first  night." 

"  You  are  most  insulting ;  one  would  think  I  were  a 
milksop.  I  was  hoping  for  a  ghost  —  a  white  lady  by 
choice.  Did  no  Carnegie  murder  his  wife,  for  instance, 
through  jealousy  or  quarrelling?  " 

"The  Carnegies  have  never  quarrelled,"  said  the 
General,  with  much  simplicity ;  "  you  see  the  men  have 
generally  been  away  fighting,  and  the  women  had  never 
time  to  weary  of  them." 

"No  woman  ever  wearies  of  a  man  unless  he  be  a  fool 
and  gives  in  to  her  —  then  she  grows  sick  of  him.  Life 
might  be  wholesome,  but  it  would  have  no  smack ;  it 
would  be  like  meat  without  mustard.  If  a  man  cannot 
rule,  he  ought  not  to  marry,  for  his  wife  will  play  the  fool 
in  some  fashion  or  other  like  a  runaway  horse,  and  he 
has  half  the  blame.  Why  did  he  take  the  box-seat?" 
and  Kate  nodded  to  the  fire.  "  What  are  you  laughing 
at?" 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  be  shocked,  but  the  thought  of 
any  one  trying  to  rule  you,  Kit,  tickles  me  immensely.  I 
have  had  the  reins  since  you  were  a  bairn,  and  you  have 
been  a  handful.  You  were  a  '  smatchit '  at  six  years  old, 
and  a  '  trimmie  '  at  twelve,  and  you  are  qualifying  for  the 
highest  rank  in  your  class." 


CONCERNING    BESOMS.  61 

"What  may  that  be,  pray?  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
Scottish  tongue  is  a  perfect  treasure-house  for  imperti- 
nent people.  How  Scots  must  congratulate  themselves 
that  they  need  never  be  at  a  loss  when  they  are  angry  or 
even  simply  frank." 

"If  it  comes  to  downright  swearing,  you  must  go  to 
Gaelic,"  said  the  General,  branching  off.  "  Donald  used 
to  be  quite  contemptuous  of  any  slight  efforts'  at  pro- 
fanity in  the  barrack  yard,  although  they  sickened  me. 
'  Toots,  Colonel ;  ye  do  not  need  to  be  troubling  your- 
self with  such  poor  little  words,  for  they  are  just  nothing 
at  all,  and  yet  the  bodies  will  be  saying  them  over  and 
over  again  like  parrots.  Now  a  Lochaber  man  could 
hef  been  saying  what  he  wass  wanting  for  fifteen  minutes, 
and  nefer  hef  used  the  same  word  twice,  unless  he 
had  been  forgetting  his  Gaelic.  It 's  a  peautiful  lan- 
guage, the  Gaelic,  when  you  will  not  be  fery  well  pleased 
with  a  man.'  " 

"  That  is  very  good,  dad,  but  I  think  we  were  speak- 
ing in  Scotch,  and  you  have  not  told  me  that  nice  com- 
plimentary title  I  am  living  to  deserve.  Is  '  cutty  '  the 
disreputable  word  ?  for  I  think  I  've  passed  that  rank 
already;  it  sounds  quite  familiar." 

"  No,  it 's  a  far  more  fetching  word  than  '  cutty,' 
or  even  than  'randy'  (scold),  which  you  may  have 
heard." 

"I  have,"  replied  Kate  instantly,  "more  than  once, 
and  especially  after  I  had  a  difference  in  opinion  with 
Lieutenant  Strange.  You  called  me  one  or  two  names 
then,  dad  —  in  fact  you  were  quite  eloquent ;  but  you 
know  that  he  was  a  bad  fellow,  and  that  the  regiment 
was  well  rid  of  him ;  but  I  'm  older  now,  and  I  have  not 
heard  my  promotion." 


62  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  It 's  the  most  vigorous  word  that  Scots  have  for  a 
particular  kind  of  woman." 

"  Describe  her,"  demanded  Kate. 

"One  who  has  a  mind  of  her  own,"  began  the 
General,  carefully,  "  and  a  way,  too,  who  is  not  easily 
cowed  or  managed,  who  is  not  .  .  ." 

"  A  fool,"  suggested  Kate. 

"  Who  is  not  conspicuously  soft  in  manner,"  pursued 
the  General,  with  discretion,  "  who  might  even  have  a 
temper." 

"  Not  a  tame  rabbit,  in  fact.  I  understand  what  you 
are  driving  at,  and  I  know  what  a  model  must  feel  when 
she  is  being  painted.  And  now  kindly  pluck  up  courage 
and  name  the  picture."  And  Kate  leant  back,  with  her 
hand  behind  her  head,  challenging  the  General  —  if  he 
dared.  "Well?" 

"  Besom."  And  he  was  not  at  all  ashamed,  for  a  Scot 
never  uses  this  word  without  a  ring  of  fondness  and 
admiration  in  his  voice,  as  of  one  who  gives  the  world  to 
understand  that  he  quite  disapproves  of  this  audacious 
woman,  wife  or  daughter  of  his,  but  is  proud  of  her  all  the 
time.  It  is  indeed  a  necessity  of  his  nature  for  a  Scot 
to  have  husks  of  reproach  containing  kernels  of  compli- 
ment, so  that  he  may  let  out  his  heart  and  yet  preserve 
his  character  as  an  austere  person,  destitute  of  vanity  and 
sentiment. 

"Accept  your  servant's  thanks,  my  General.  I  am 
highly  honoured."  And  Kate  made  a  sweeping  courtesy, 
whereupon  they  both  laughed  merrily ;  and  a  log  blazing 
up  suddenly  made  an  old  Carnegie  smile  who  had  taken 
the  field  for  Queen  Mary,  and  was  the  very  man  to  have 
delighted  in  a  besom. 

"  When    I    was   here    in    June "  —  and   the   General 


CONCERNING   BESOMS.  63 

stretched  himself  in  a  deep  red  leather  chair  —  "I  stood 
a  while  one  evening  watching  a  fair-haired,  blue-eyed 
little  maid  who  was  making  a  daisy  chain  and  singing  to 
herself  in  a  garden.  Her  mother  came  out  from  the 
cottage,  and,  since  she  did  not  see  me,  devoured  the 
child  with  eyes  of  love.  Then  something  came  into  her 
mind  —  perhaps  that  the  good  man  would  soon  be  home 
for  supper ;  she  rushed  forward  and  seized  the  child,  as 
if  it  had  been  caught  in  some  act  of  mischief.  '  Come 
into  the  hoose,  this  meenut,  ye  little  beesom,  an1  say 
yir  carritches.  What 's  the  chief  end  o'  man?  ' ' 

"  Could  she  have  been  so  accomplished  at  that 
age?"  Kate  inquired,  with  interest.  "Are  you  sure 
about  the  term  of  endearment?  Was  the  child  visibly 
flattered?" 

"  She  caught  my  eye  as  they  passed  in,  and  flung  me 
a  smile  like  one  excusing  her  mother's  fondness.  But 
Davidson  hears  better  things,  for  as  soon  as  he  appears 
the  younger  members  of  a  family  are  taken  from  their 
porridge  and  set  to  their  devotions. 

" '  What  are  ye  glowerin'  at  there,  ye  little  cutty  ? 
Toom  (empty)  yir  mooth  this  meenut  and  say  the 
twenty-third  Psalm  to  the  minister.'  " 

"  Life  seems  full  of  incident,  and  the  women  make 
the  play.  What  about  the  men?  Are  they  merely  a 
chorus?" 

"  A  stranger  spending  a  week  in  one  of  our  farm-houses 
would  be  ready  to  give  evidence  in  a  court  of  justice 
that  he  had  never  seen  women  so  domineering  or  men 
so  submissive  as  in  Drumtochty. 

"And  why?  Because  the  housewife  who  sits  in 
church  as  if  butter  would  n't  melt  in  her  mouth  speaks 
with  much  fluency  and  vigour  at  home,  and  the  man 


64  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

says  nothing.  His  normal  state  is  doing  wrong  and  being 
scolded  from  morning  till  night  —  for  going  out  without 
his  breakfast,  for  not  cleaning  his  boots  when  he  comes 
in,  for  spoiling  chairs  by  sitting  on  them  with  wet  clothes, 
for  spilling  his  tea  on  the  tablecloth,  for  going  away  to 
market  with  a  dusty  coat,  for  visiting  the  stable  with  his 
Sunday  coat,  for  not  speaking  at  all  to  visitors,  for  saying 
things  he  ought  n't  when  he  does  speak  —  till  the  long- 
suffering  man,  raked  fore  and  aft,  rushes  from  the  house 
in  desperation,  and  outside  remarks  to  himself,  by  way 
of  consolation,  '  Losh  keep  's  !  there  's  nae  livin'  wi'  her 
the  day ;  her  tongue  's  little  better  than  a  threshing-mill.' 
His  confusion,  however,  is  neither  deep  nor  lasting,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  he  has  started  for  a  round  of  the  farm 
in  good  heart,  once  or  twice  saying  '  Sail  '  in  a  way  that 
shows  a  lively  recollection  of  his  wife's  gifts." 

"  Then  the  men  love  to  be  ruled,"  began  Kate,  with 
some  contempt ;  "  it  does  not  give  me  a  higher  idea  of 
the  district." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  young  woman,  for  all  that  goes  for 
nothing  except  to  show  that  the  men  allow  the  women 
to  be  supreme  in  one  sphere." 

"  In  the  dairy,  I  suppose?  " 

"Perhaps;  and  a  very  pleasant  kingdom,  too,  as  I  re- 
member it,  when  a  hot,  thirsty,  tired  laddie,  who  had 
been  fishing  or  ferreting,  was  taken  into  the  cool,  moist, 
darkened  place,  and  saw  a  dish  of  milk  creamed  for  his 
benefit  by  some  sonsy  housewife.  Sandie  and  I  used  to 
think  her  omnipotent,  and  heard  her  put  the  gude  man 
through  his  facings  with  awe,  but  by-and-by  we  noticed 
that  her  power  had  limits.  When  the  matter  had  to  do 
with  anything  serious,  sowing  or  reaping  or  kirk  or 
market,  his  word  was  law. 


CONCERNING   BESOMS.  65 

"  He  said  little,  but  it  was  final,  and  she  never  con- 
tradicted ;  it  was  rare  to  hear  a  man  call  his  wife  by 
name  ;  it  was  usually '  gude  wife,'  and  she  always  referred 
to  him  as  the  '  maister.'  And  without  any  exception, 
these  silent,  reserved  men  were  '  maister ;  '  they  had  a 
look  of  authority." 

"  They  gave  way  in  trifles,  to  rule  in  a  crisis,  which 
is  just  my  idea  of  masculine  government,"  expatiated 
Kate.  "  A  woman  likes  to  say  what  she  pleases  and  have 
her  will  in  little  things ;  she  has  her  way,  and  if  a  man 
corrects  her  because  she  is  inaccurate,  and  nags  at  her 
when  she  does  anything  he  does  not  approve,  then  he 
is  very  foolish  and  very  trying,  and  if  she  is  not  quite  a 
saint,  she  will  make  him  suffer. 

"Do  you  remember  Dr.  Pettigrew,  that  prim  lit- 
tle effigy  of  a  man,  and  his  delightful  Irish  wife, 
and  how  conversation  used  to  run  when  he  was  within 
hearing?  " 

"  Glad  to  have  a  tasting,  Kit,"  and  the  General  lay 
back  in  expectation. 

" '  Oi  remember  him,  as  foine  an  upstanding  young 
officer  as  ye  would  wish  to  see,  six  feet  in  his  boots.' 

" '  About  five  feet  ten,  I  believe,  was  his  exact  height, 
my  dear.' 

"  '  IMaybe  he  was  n't  full  grown  then,  but  he  was  a  good- 
looking  man,  and  as  pretty  a  rider  as  ever  sat  on  a  horse. 
Well,  he  was  a  Warwickshire  man  .  .  .' 

"  '  Bucks,  he  said  himself.' 

" '  He  was  maybe  born  in  both  counties  for  all  you 
know.' 

"  '  Alethea,'  with  a  cough  and  reproving  look. 

"  '  At  any  rate  Oi  saw  him  riding  in  a  steeplechase  in 
the  spring  of  '67,  at  Aldershot.' 

5 


66  KATE  CARNEGIE. 

"  *  It  must,  I  think,  have  been  '66.  We  were  at 
Gibraltar  in  '67.  Please  be  accurate.' 

"  '  Bother  your  accuracy,  for  ye  are  driving  the  pigs 
through  my  story.  Well,  Oi  was  telling  ye  about  the 
steeplechase  Jimmy  Brook  rode.  It  was  a  mile,  and  he 
had  led  for  half,  and  so  he  was  just  four  hundred  yards 
from  the  post.' 

"  '  A  half  would  be  eight  hundred  and  eighty  yards.' 

"  '  Oi  wish  from  my  heart  that  geography,  arithmetic, 
memory,  and  accuracy,  and  every  other  work  of  Satan 
were  drowned  with  Moses  in  the  Red  Sea.  Go,  for  any 
sake,  and  bring  me  a  glass  of  irritated  water.' " 

"  Capital,"  cried  the  General.  "  I  heard  that  myself, 
or  something  like  it.  Pettigrew  was  a  tiresome  wretch, 
but  he  was  devoted  to  his  wife  in  his  own  way." 

"  Which  was  enough  to  make  a  woman  throw  things 
at  him,  as  very  likely  Alethea  did  when  they  were  alone. 
What  a  fool  he  was  to  bother  about  facts ;  the  charm 
of  Lithy  was  that  she  had  none  —  dates  and  such  like 
would  have  made  her  quite  uninteresting.  The  only 
dates  I  can  quote  myself  are  the  Rebellion  and  the 
Mutiny,  and  I  '11  add  the  year  we  came  home.  I  don't 
like  datey  women  ;  but  then  it 's  rather  cheap  for  one  to 
say  that  who  doesn't  know  anything,"  and  Kate  sighed 
very  becomingly  at  the  contemplation  of  her  ignorance. 

"  Except  French,  which  she  speaks  like  a  Parisian," 
murmured  the  General. 

"  That 's  a  fluke,  because  I  was  educated  at  the  Scotch 
convent  with  these  dear  old  abs'ird  nuns  who  were  Gor- 
dons, and  Camerons,  and  Macdonalds,  and  did  n't  know 
a  word  of  English.7' 

"  Who  can  manage  her  horse  like  a  rough-rider,"  con- 
tinued the  General,  counting  on  his  finger,  "and  dance 


CONCERNING    BESOMS.  6? 

like  a  Frenchwoman,  and  play  whist  like  a  half-pay  offi- 
cer, and  —  " 

'•  That  's  not  education  ;  those  are  simply  the  accom- 
plishments of  a  besom.  You  know,  dad,  I  Ve  never  read 
a  word  of  Darwin,  and  I  got  tired  of  George  Eliot  and 
went  back  to  Scott." 

"  I  've  no  education  myself,"  said  the  General,  ruefully, 
"  except  the  Latin  the  old  dominie  thrashed  into  me,  and 
some  French  which  all  our  set  in  Scotland  used  to  have, 
and  ...  I  can  hold  my  own  with  the  broadsword. 
When  I  think  of  all  those  young  officers  know,  I  wonder 
we  old  chaps  were  fit  for  anything." 

"  Well,  you  see,  dad,"  and  Kate  began  to  count  also, 
"  you  were  made  of  steel  wire,  and  were  never  ill ;  you 
could  march  for  a  day  and  rather  enjoy  a  fight  in  the 
evening  ;  you  would  go  anywhere,  and  the  men  followed 
just  eighteen  inches  behind  ;  you  always  knew  what  the 
enemy  was  going  to  do  before  he  did  it,  and  you  always 
did  what  he  did  n't  expect  you  to  do.  That 's  not  half 
the  list  of  your  accomplishments,  but  they  make  a  good 
beginning  for  a  fighting  man." 

"  It  will  be  all  mathematics  in  the  future,  Kit,  and 
there  will  be  no  fighting  at  close  quarters.  The  officers 
will  wear  gloves  and  spectacles  —  but  where  are  we  now, 
grumbling  as  if  we  were  sitting  in  a  club  window?  Be- 
sides, these  young  fellows  can  fight  as  well  as  pass  exams. 
You  were  saying  that  it  was  a  shame  of  a  man  to  com- 
plain of  his  wife  flirting,"  and  the  General  studied  the 
ceiling. 

"  You  know  that  I  never  said  anything  of  the  kind ; 
some  women  are  flirty  in  a  nice  way,  just  as  some  are 
booky,  and  some  are  dressy,  and  some  are  witty,  and 
some  are  horsey  ;  and  I  think  a  woman  should  be  herself. 


68  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

I  should  say  the  right  kind  of  man  would  be  proud  of 
his  wife's  strong  point,  and  give  her  liberty." 

"  He  is  to  have  none,  I  suppose,  but  just  be  a  foil  to 
throw  her  into  relief.  Is  he  to  be  allowed  any  opinions 
of  his  own  ?  ...  It  looks  hard,  that  cushion,  Kit,  and  I  'm 
an  old  broken-down  man." 

"You  deserve  leather,  for  you  know  what  I  think 
about  a  man's  position  quite  well.  If  he  allow  himself 
to  be  governed  by  his  wife  in  serious  matters,  he  is  not 
worth  calling  a  man." 

"  Like  poor  Major  Macintosh." 

"  Exactly.  What  an  abject  he  was  before  that  woman, 
who  was  simply  — " 

"Not  a  besom,  Kate,"  interrupted  the  General, 
anxiously  —  afraid  that  a  classical  word  was  to  be 
misused. 

"  Certainly  not,  for  a  besom  must  be  nice,  and  at  bot- 
tom a  lady  —  in  fact,  a  woman  of  decided  character." 

"  Quite  so.  You  've  hit  the  bull's-eye,  Kit,  and  paid 
a  neat  compliment  to  yourself.  Have  you  a  word  for 
Mrs.  Macintosh?" 

"A  vulgar  termagant"  —  the  General  indicated  that 
would  do  —  "  who  would  call  her  husband  an  idiot  aloud 
before  a  dinner-table,  and  quarrel  like  a  fishwite  with 
people  in  his  presence. 

•'  Why,  he  daren't  call  his  soul  his  own;  he  belonged 
to  the  kirk,  you  know,  and  there  was  a  Scotch  padre,  but 
she  marched  him  off  to  our  service,  and  if  you  had  seen 
him  trying  to  find  the  places  in  the  Prayer-book.  If  a 
man  hasn't  courage  enough  to  stand  by  his  faith,  he 
might  as  well  go  and  hang  himself.  Don't  you  think  the 
first  thing  is  to  stick  by  your  religion,  and  the  next  by 
your  country,  though  it  cost  one  his  life?  " 


CONCERNING   BESOMS.  69 

"  That 's  it,  lassie  ;  every  gentleman  does." 

"She was  a  disgusting  woman,"  continued  Kate,  "and 
jingling  with  money ;  I  never  saw  so  many  precious  stones 
wasted  on  one  woman ;  they  always  reminded  me  of  a 
jewel  in  a  swine's  snout." 

"  Kate  !  "  remonstrated  her  father,  "  that 's  .  .  ." 

"  Rather  coarse,  but  it 's  her  blame ;  and  to  hear 
Mrs.  Macintosh  calculating  what  each  officer  had  —  I 
told  her  we  would  live  in  a  Lodge  at  home  and  raise  our 
own  food.  My  opinion  is  that  her  father  was  a  publican, 
and  I  'm  sure  she  had  once  been  a  Methodist." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  she  was  so  Churchy,  always  talking  about 
celebrations  and  vigils,  and  explaining  that  it  was  a  sin 
to  listen  to  a  Dissenting  chaplain." 

"  Then,  Kate,  if  your  man  —  as  they  say  here  — -  tried 
to  make  you  hold  his  views?  " 

"  I  wouldn't,  and  I'd  hate  him." 

"And  if  he  accepted  yours?" 

"  I  'd  despise  him,"  replied  Kate,  promptly. 

"  You  are  a  perfect  contradiction." 

"  You  mean  I  'm  a  woman,  and  a  besom,  and  therefore 
I  don't  pretend  to  be  consistent  or  logical,  or  even  fair, 
but  I  am  right." 

Then  they  went  up  the  west  tower  to  the  General's 
room,  and  looked  out  on  the  woods  and  the  river,  and 
on  a  field  of  ripe  corn  upon  the  height  across  the  river, 
flooded  with  the  moonlight. 

"  Home  at  last,  lassie,  you  and  I,  and  another  not  far 
off,  maybe." 

Kate  kissed  her  father,  and  said,  "One  in  love, 
dad  .  .  and  faith." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A   PLEASAUNCE. 

HE  General  read  Morning  Pray- 
ers in  brief,  omitting  the  Psalms 
and  lessons,  and  then  after 
breakfast,  with  much  gossip  and 
ancient  stories  from  Donald,  the 
father  and  daughter  went  out  to 
survey  their  domain,  and  though 
there  be  many  larger,  yet  there 
can  be  few  more  romantic  in 
the  north.  That  Carnegie  had 
a  fine  eye  and  a  sense  of  things  who, 
out  of  all  the  Glen  —  for  the  Hays  had 
little  in  Drumtochty  in  those  days  — 
fastened  on  the  site  of  the  Lodge 
and  planted  three  miles  of  wood, 
birch  and  oak,  and  beech  and  ash, 
with  the  rowan  tree,  along  the  river  that  goes  out  and  in 
seven  times  in  that  distance,  so  that  his  descendants  might 
have  a  fastness  for  their  habitation  and  their  children 
might  grow  up  in  kindly  woods  on  which  the  south  sun 
beats  from  early  spring  till  late  autumn,  and  within  the 
sight  and  sound  of  clean,  running  water.  No  wonder 
they  loved  their  lonely  home  with  tenacious  hearts,  and 
left  it  only  because  it  was  in  their  blood  to  be  fighting. 


A   PLEASAUNCE.  71 

They  had  been  out  at  Langside  and  Philiphaugh,  in  the 
'15  and  the  '45,  and  always  on  the  losing  side.  The 
Lodge  had  never  been  long  without  a  young  widow  and 
a  fatherless  lad,  but  family  history  had  no  warning  for 
him  —  in  fact,  seemed  rather  to  be  an  inspiration  in  the 
old  way  —  for  no  sooner  had  the  young  laird  loved  and 
married  than  he  would  hear  of  another  rebellion,  and  ride 
off  some  morning  to  fight  for  that  ill-fated  dynasty  whose 
love  was  ever  another  name  for  death.  There  was  always 
a  Carnegie  ready  as  soon  as  the  white  cockade  appeared 
anywhere  in  Scotland,  and  each  of  the  house  fought  like 
the  men  before  him,  save  that  he  brought  fewer  at  his 
back  and  had  less  in  his  pocket.  Little  was  left  to  the 
General  and  our  Kate,  and  then  came  the  great  catas- 
trophe that  lost  them  the  Lodge,  and  so  the  race  has  now 
neither  name  nor  house  in  Scotland,  save  in  the  vault  in 
Drumtochty  Kirk.  It  is  a  question  whether  one  is  wise 
to  revisit  any  place  where  he  has  often  been  in  happier 
times  and  see  it  desolate.  For  me,  at  least,  it  was  a  mis- 
take, and  the  melancholy  is  still  upon  me.  The  deserted 
house  falling  at  last  to  pieces,  the  over-grown  garden,  the 
crumbling  paths,  the  gaping  bridges  over  the  little  burns, 
and  the  loneliness,  chilled  one's  soul.  There  was  no 
money  to  spare  in  the  General's  time,  but  it  is  wonderful 
what  one  gardener,  who  has  no  hours,  and  works  for 
love's  sake,  can  do,  even  in  a  place  that  needed  half  a 
dozen.  Then  he  was  assisted  unofficially  by  Donald,  who 
declared  that  working  in  the  woods  was  "  fery  healthy 
and  good  for  one  or  two  small  cuts  I  happened  to  get  in 
India,"  and  Kate  gave  herself  to  the  garden.  The  path 
by  the  river  was  kept  in  repair,  and  one  never  knew 
when  Kate  might  appear  round  the  corner.  Once  I  had 
come  down  from  the  cottage  on  a  fine  February  day  to 


KATE   CARNEGIE. 


ONE   GARDENER    WHO    . 


WORKS    FOR    LOVE'S   SAKE. 


see  the  snowdrops  in  the  sheltered  nooks,  for  there  were 
little  dells  white  as  snow  at  that  season  in  Tochty  woods, 
and  Kate,  hearing  that  I  had  passed,  came  of  her  kind- 
ness to  take  me  back  to  luncheon.  She  had  on  a  jacket 


A   PLEASAUNCE.  73 

of  sealskin  that  we  greatly  admired,  and  a  felt  hat  with 
three  grouse  feathers  on  the  side,  and  round  her  throat 
a  red  satin  scarf.  The  sun  was  shining  on  the  bend  of 
the  path,  and  she  came  into  the  light  singing  "  Jack  o' 
Hazeldean,"  walking,  as  Kate  ever  did  in  song,  with  a 
swinging  step  like  soldiers  on  a  march.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  day  that  she  was  born  to  be  the  wife  either  of  a 
noble  or  a  soldier,  and  I  still  wish  at  times  within  my 
heart  she  were  Countess  of  Kilspindie,  for  then  the 
Lodge  had  been  a  fair  sight  to-day,  and  her  father  had 
died  in  his  own  room.  And  other  times  I  have  imagined 
myself  Kilspindie,  who  was  then  Lord  Hay,  and  ques- 
tioned whether  I  should  have  ordered  Tochty  to  be  dis- 
mantled and  left  a  waste  as  it  is  this  day,  and  would 
have  gone  away  to  the  wars,  or  would  not  have  loved  to 
keep  it  in  order  for  her  sake,  and  visited  it  in  the  spring- 
time when  the  primroses  are  out,  and  the  autumn  when 
the  leaves  are  blood-red.  Then  I  declare  that  Hay, 
being  of  a  brave  stock,  and  having  acted  as  a  man  of 
honour  —  for  that  is  known  to  all  now  —  ought  to  have 
put  a  good  face  on  his  disappointment ;  but  all  the  time  I 
know  one  man  who  would  have  followed  Lord  Hay's  suit, 
and  who  regrets  that  he  ever  again  saw  Tochty  Lodge. 

"  First  of  all,"  said  the  General  as  they  sallied  forth, 
"  we  shall  go  to  the  Beeches,  and  see  a  view  for  which 
one  might  travel  many  days,  and  pay  a  ransom." 

So  they  went  out  into  the  court  with  its  draw-well, 
from  which  they  must  needs  have  a  draught.  Suddenly 
the  General  laid  down  the  cup  like  a  man  in  sudden 
pain,  for  he  was  thinking  of  Cawnpore,  and  they  passed 
quickly  through  the  gateway  and  turned  into  a  path  that 
wound  among  great  trees  that  had  been  planted,  it  was 
said,  by  the  Carnegie  who  rode  with  Montrose.  They 


74  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

were  walking  on  a  plateau  stretching  out  beyond  the  line 
of  the  Lodge,  and  therefore  commanding  the  Glen,  if 
one  had  eyes  to  see  and  the  trees  were  not  in  the  way. 
Kate  laid  her  hand  on  the  General's  arm  beneath  an 
ancient  beech,  and  they  stood  in  silence  to  receive  the 
blessing  of  the  place,  for  surely  never  is  the  soul  so  open 
to  the  voice  of  nature  as  by  the  side  of  running  water 
and  in  the  heart  of  a  wood.  The  fretted  sunlight  made 
shifting  figures  of  brightness  on  the  ground  ;  above  the 
innumerable  leaves  rustled  and  whispered ;  a  squirrel 
darted  along  a  branch  and  watched  the  intruders  with 
bright,  curious  eyes  ;  the  rooks  cawed  from  the  distance  ; 
the  pigeons  cooed  in  sweet,  sad  cadence  close  at  hand. 
They  sat  down  on  the  bare  roots  at  their  feet  and  yielded 
themselves  to  the  genius  of  the  forest  —  the  god  who 
will  receive  the  heart  torn  and  distracted  by  the  fierce 
haste  and  unfinished  labours  and  vain  ambitions  of  life, 
and  will  lay  its  fever  to  rest  and  encompass  it  with  the 
quietness  of  eternity. 

"  Father,"  whispered  Kate,  after  a  while,  as  one  wish- 
ing to  share  confidences,  for  there  must  be  something  to 
tell,  "  where  are  you?  " 

"You  wish  to  know?  Well,  all  day  I've  been  fishing 
down  the  stream,  and  am  coming  home,  very  tired,  very 
dirty,  very  happy,  and  I  meet  my  mother  just  outside 
those  trees.  I  am  boasting  of  the  fish  that  I  have  caught, 
none  of  which,  I  'm  sure,  can  be  less  than  half  a  pound. 
She  is  rating  me  for  my  appearance  and  beseeching  me 
to  keep  at  a  distance.  Then  I  go  home  and  down  into 
the  vaulted  kitchen,  where  Janet's  mother  gives  me  joy- 
ous welcome,  and  produces  dainties  saved  from  dinner 
for  my  eating.  The  trouts  are  now  at  biggest  only  a 
quarter  of  a  pound,  for  they  have  to  be  cooked  as  a  final 


A   PLEASAUNCE.  75 

course,  but  those  that  were  hooked  and  escaped  are 
each  a  pound,  except  one  in  the  hole  below  Lynedoch 
Bridge,  which  was  two  pounds  to  an  ounce.  Afterwards 
I  make  a  brave  attempt  to  rehearse  the  day  in  the  gun- 
room to  Sandie,  who  first  taught  me  to  cast  a  line,  and 
fall  fast  asleep,  and,  being  shaken  up,  sneak  off  to  bed, 
creeping  slowly  up  the  stair,  where  the  light  is  falling, 
to  the  little  room  above  yours,  where,  as  I  am  falling 
over,  I  seem  to  hear  my  mother's  voice  as  in  this 
sighing  of  the  wind.  Ah  me,  what  a  day  it  was  !  And 
you,  Kit?" 

"  Oh,  I  was  back  in  the  convent  with  my  nuns,  and 
Sister  Flora  was  trying  to  teach  me  English  grammar  in 
good  French,  and  I  was  correcting  her  in  bad  French, 
and  she  begins  to  laugh  because  it  is  all  so  droll.  '  I 
am  Scotch,  and  I  teach  you  English  all  wrong,  and  you 
tell  me  what  I  ought  to  say  in  French  which  is  all 
wrong ;  let  us  go  into  the  garden,'  for  she  was  a  perfect 
love,  and  always  covered  my  faults.  I  am  sitting  in  the 
arbour,  and  the  Sister  brings  a  pear  that  has  fallen.  '  I 
do  not  think  it  is  wicked,'  she  says,  and  I  say  it  is  simply 
a  duty  to  eat  up  fallen  pears,  and  we  laugh  again.  As 
we  sit,  they  are  singing  in  the  chapel,  and  I  hear  'Ave 
Maria,  ora  pro  nobis.'  Then  I  think  of  you,  and  the 
tears  will  come  to  my  eyes,  and  I  try  to  hide  my  face, 
but  the  Sister  understands  and  comforts  me.  'Your 
father  is  a  gallant  gentleman,  and  the  good  God  pities 
you,  and  will  keep  him  in  danger,'  and  I  fondle  the 
Sister,  and  wonder  whether  any  more  pears  have  fallen. 
How  peaceful  it  is  within  that  high  wall,  which  is  rough 
and  forbidding  outside,  but  inside  it  is  hung  with  green- 
ery, and  among  the  leaves  I  see  pears  and  peaches.  But 
I  missed  you,  dad,"  and  Kate  touched  her  father,  for 


76  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

they  had  a  habit  of  just  touching  each  other  gently  when 
together. 

"  Do  you  really  think  we  have  been  in  India,  and  that 
you  have  a  dozen  medals,  and  I  am  ...  an  old  maid?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Kit,  a  mere  invention  —  we  are  boy 
and  girl,  and  .  .  .  we  '11  go  on  to  the  view." 

Suddenly  they  came  out  from  the  shade  into  a  narrow 
lane  of  light,  where  some  one  of  the  former  time,  with  an 
eye  and  a  soul,  had  cleared  a  passage  among  the  trees,  so 
that  one  standing  at  the  inner  end  and  looking  outwards 
could  see  the  whole  Glen,  while  the  outstretched  branches 
of  the  beeches  shaded  his  eyes.  Morning  in  the  sum- 
mer-time about  five  o'clock  was  a  favourable  hour,  be- 
cause one  might  see  the  last  mists  lift,  and  the  sun  light 
up  the  face  of  Ben  Urtach,  and  evening-tide  was  better, 
because  the  Glen  showed  wonderfully  tender  in  the  soft 
light,  and  the  Grampians  were  covered  with  glory.  But 
it  was  best  to  take  your  first  view  towards  noon,  for 
then  you  could  trace  the  Tochty  upwards  as  it  appeared 
and  reappeared,  till  it  was  lost  in  woods  at  the  foot  of 
Glen  Urtach,  with  every  spot  of  interest  on  either  side. 
Below  the  kirk  it  ran  broad  and  shallow,  with  a  bank 
of  brushwood  on  one  side  and  a  meadow  on  the  other, 
fringed  with  low  bushes  from  behind  which  it  was 
possible  to  drop  a  fly  with  some  prospects  of  success, 
while  in  quite  unprotected  situations  the  Drumtochty 
fish  laughed  at  the  tempter,  and  departed  with  con- 
temptuous whisks  of  the  tail.  Above  the  haughs  was 
a  little  mill,  where  flax  was  once  spun  and  its  lade  still 
remained,  running  between  the  Tochty  and  the  steep 
banks  down  which  the  glen  descended  to  the  river. 
Opposite  this  mill  the  Tochty  ran  with  strength,  escap- 
ing from  the  narrows  of  the  bridge,  and  there  it  was  that 


A    PLEASAUNCE.  77 

Weelum  Mac  Lure  drove  across  Sir  George  in  safety,  be- 
cause the  bridge  was  not  for  use  that  day.  Whether 
that  bridge  was  really  built  by  Marshall  Wade  in  his 
great  work  of  pacifying  the  Highlands  is  very  far  from 
certain,  but  Drumtochty  did  not  relish  any  trifling  with 
its  traditions,  and  had  a  wonderful  pride  in  its  solitary 
bridge,  as  well  it  might,  since  from  the  Beeches  nothing 
could  well  be  more  picturesque.  Its  plan  came  nearly 
to  an  inverted  V,  and  the  apex  was  just  long  enough  to 
allow  the  horses  to  rest  after  the  ascent,  before  they 
precipitated  themselves  down  the  other  side.  During 
that  time  the  driver  leant  on  the  ledge,  and  let  his  eye 
run  down  the  river,  taking  in  the  Parish  Kirk  above  and 
settling  on  the  Lodge,  just  able  to  be  seen  among  the 
trees  where  the  Tochty  below  turned  round  the  bend. 
What  a  Drumtochty  man  thought  on  such  occasions  he 
never  told,  but  you  might  have  seen  even  Whinnie  nod 
his  head  with  emphasis.  The  bridge  stood  up  clear  of 
banks  and  woods,  grey,  uncompromising,  unconventional, 
yet  not  without  some  grace  of  its  own  in  its  high  arch 
and  abrupt  descents.  One  with  good  eyes  and  a  favour- 
ing sun  could  see  the  water  running  underneath,  and  any 
one  caught  its  sheen  higher  up,  before  a  wood  came  down 
to  the  water's  edge  and  seemed  to  swallow  up  the  stream. 
Above  the  wood  it  is  seen  again,  with  a  meal  mill  on  the 
Tochty  left  nestling  in  among  the  trees,  and  one  would  call 
it  the  veriest  burn,  but  it  was  there  that  Posty  lost  his 
life  to  save  a  little  child.  And  then  it  dwindles  into  the 
thinnest  thread  of  silver,  and  at  last  is  seen  no  more  from 
the  beeches.  From  the  Tochty  the  eye  makes  its  raids 
on  north  and  south.  The  dark,  massy  pine-woods  on 
the  left  side  of  the  glen  are  broken  at  intervals  by  fields 
as  they  threaten  to  come  down  upon  the  river,  and  their 


78  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

shelter  lends  an  air  of  comfort  and  warmth  to  the  glen. 
On  the  right  the  sloping  land  is  tilled  from  the  bank 
above  the  river  up  to  the  edge  of  the  moor  that  swells  in 
green  and  purple  to  the  foot  of  the  northern  rampart  of 
mountains,  but  on  this  side  also  the  glen  here  and  there 
breaks  into  belts  of  fir,  which  fling  their  kindly  arms  round 
the  scattered  farm-houses,  and  break  up  the  monotony  of 
green  and  gold  with  squares  of  dark  green  foliage  and 
the  brown  of  the  tall,  bare  trunks.  Between  the  mean- 
dering stream  and  the  cultivated  land  and  the  woods  and 
the  heather  and  the  distant  hills,  there  was  such  a  variety 
as  cannot  be  often  gathered  into  the  compass  of  one 
landscape. 

"  And  all  our  own,"  cried  Kate  in  exultation  ;  "  let  us 
congratulate  ourselves." 

"  I  only  wish  it  were,  lassie.  Why,  did  n't  you  under- 
stand we  have  only  these  woods  and  a  few  acres  of 
ploughed  land  now?  " 

"  You  stupid  old  dad  ;  I  begin  to  believe  that  you 
have  had  no  education.  Of  course  the  Hays  have  got 
the  land,  but  we  have  the  view  and  the  joy  of  it.  This 
is  the  only  place  where  one  can  say  to  a  stranger,  '  Be- 
hold Drumtochty,'  and  he  will  see  it  at  a  flash  and  at  its 
best." 

"You're  brighter  than  your  father,  Kit,  and  a  con- 
tented lassie  to  boot,  and  for  that  word  I'll  take  you 
straight  to  the  Pleasaunce." 

'•  What  a  charming  name  ;  it  suggests  a  fairy  world, 
with  all  sorts  of  beautiful  things  and  people." 

"  Quite  right,  Kit  "  —  leading  the  way  down  to  a  hol- 
low, surrounded  by  wood  and  facing  the  sun,  the  General 
opened  a  door  in  an  ivy-covered  wall  —  "  for  there  is 
just  one  Pleasaunce  on  the  earth,  and  that  is  a  garden." 


AMONG    THE    GREAT    TREES. 


8o  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

It  had  been  a  risk  to  raise  certain  people's  expectations 
and  then  bring  them  into  Tochty  garden,  for  they  can  be 
satisfied  with  no  place  that  has  not  a  clean-shaven  lawn 
and  beds  of  unvarying  circles,  pyrethrum,  calceolaria,  and 
geranium,  and  brakes  of  rare  roses,  and  glass-houses 
with  orchids  worth  fifty  pound  each,  which  is  a  garden  in 
high  life,  full  of  luxury,  extravagance,  weariness.  As 
Kate  entered,  a  moss  rose  which  wandered  at  its  will 
caught  her  skirt,  and  the  General  cut  a  blossom  which 
she  fastened  in  her  breast,  and  surely  there  is  no  flower 
so  winsome  and  fragrant  as  this  homely  rose. 

"  Like  yourself,  Miss  Carnegie,"  and  the  General 
rallied  his  simple  wit  for  the  occasion,  "  very  sweet  and 
true,  with  a  thorn,  too,  if  one  gripped  it  the  wrong 
way." 

Whereat  he  made  believe  to  run,  and  had  the  better 
speed  because  there  were  no  gravel  walks  with  boxwood 
borders  here,  but  alleys  of  old  turf  that  were  pleasant 
both  to  the  touch  and  the  eye.  In  the  centre  where  all 
the  ways  met  he  capitulated  with  honours  of  war,  and 
explained  that  he  had  intended  to  compare  Kate  to  a 
violet,  which  was  her  natural  emblem,  but  had  succumbed 
to  the  temptation  of  her  eyes,  "  which  make  men  wicked, 
Kit,  with  the  gleam  that  is  in  them." 

"  Is  n't  it  a  tangle?  "  Which  it  was,  and  no  one  could 
look  upon  it  without  keen  delight,  unless  he  were  a 
horticultural  pedant  in  whom  the  appreciation  of  nature 
had  been  killed  by  parterres.  There  was  some  principle 
of  order,  and  even  now,  when  the  Pleasaunce  is  a  wilder- 
ness, the  traces  can  be  found.  A  dwarf  fruit  tree  stood 
at  every  corner,  and  between  the  trees  a  three-foot  bor- 
der of  flowers  kept  the  peas  and  potatoes  in  their  places. 
But  the  borders  were  one  sustained,  elaborate,  glorified 


A   PLEASAUNCE.  81 

disorder.  There  were  roses  of  all  kinds  that  have  ever 
gladdened  poor  gardens  and  simple  hearts  —  yellow  tea 
roses,  moss  roses  with  their  firm,  shapely  buds,  monthly 
roses  that  bore  nearly  all  the  year  in  a  warm  spot,  the 
white  briar  that  is  dear  to  north  country  people,  besides 
standards  in  their  glory,  with  full  round  purple  blossom. 
Among  the  roses,  compassing  them  about  and  jostling 
one  another,  some  later,  some  earlier  in  bloom,  most  of 
them  together  in  the  glad  summer  days,  one  could  find 
to  his  hand  wall-flowers  and  primroses,  sweet-william  and 
dusty- miller,  daisies  red  and  white,  forget-me-nots  and 
pansies,  pinks  and  carnations,  marigolds  and  phloxes  of 
many  varieties.  The  confusion  of  colours  was  preposter- 
ous, and  showed  an  utter  want  of  aesthetic  sense.  In 
fact,  one  may  confess  that  the  Lodge  garden  was  only 
one  degree  removed  from  the  vulgarity  and  prodigality 
of  nature.  There  was  no  taste,  no  reserve,  no  harmony 
about  that  garden.  Nature  simply  ran  riot  and  played 
according  to  her  will  like  a  child  of  the  former  days, 
bursting  into  apple  blossom  and  laburnum  gold  and  the 
bloom  of  peas  and  the  white  strawberry  flower  in  early 
summer,  and  then,  later  in  the  year,  weaving  garlands  of 
blazing  red,  yellow,  white,  purple,  round  beds  of  stolid 
roots  and  brakes  of  currant  bushes.  There  was  a  copper 
beech,  where  the  birds  sang,  and  from  which  they  raided 
the  fruit  with  the  skill  of  Highland  caterans.  The  Lodge 
bees  lived  all  day  in  this  garden,  save  when  they  went  to 
reinforce  their  sweetness  from  the  heather  bloom.  The 
big  trees  stood  round  the  place  and  covered  it  from 
every  wind  except  the  south,  and  the  sun  was  ever  bless- 
ing it.  There  was  one  summer-house,  a  mass  of  honey- 
suckle, and  there  they  sat  down  as  those  that  had  come 
back  to  Eden  from  a  wander  year. 

6 


82  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"Well,  Kit?" 

"  Thank  God  for  our  Pleasaunce."  And  they  would 
have  stayed  for  hours,  but  there  was  one  other  spot  that 
had  a  fascination  for  the  General  neither  years  nor  wars 
had  dulled,  and  he,  who  was  the  most  matter-of-fact  and 
romantic  of  men,  must  see  and  show  it  to  his  daughter 
before  they  ceased. 

"A  mile  and  more,  Kit,  but  through  the  woods  and 
by  the  water  all  the  way." 

Sometimes  they  went  down  a  little  ravine  made  by  a 
small  burn  fighting  and  wearing  its  way  for  ages  to  the 
Tochty,  and  stood  on  a  bridge  of  two  planks  and  a  hand- 
rail thrown  over  a  tiny  pool,  where  the  water  was  resting 
on  a  bed  of  small  pebbles.  The  oak  copse  covered  the 
sides  of  the  tiny  glen  and  met  across  the  streamlet,  and 
one  below  could  see  nothing  but  greenery  and  the  glint 
of  the  waterfall  where  the  burn  broke  into  the  bosky- 
den  from  the  bare  heights  above.  Other  times  the  path, 
that  allowed  two  to  walk  abreast  if  they  wished  very 
much  and  kept  close  together,  would  skirt  the  face  of 
the  high  river  bank,  and  if  you  peeped  down  through 
the  foliage  of  the  clinging  trees  you  could  see  the 
Tochty  running  swiftly,  and  the  overhanging  branches 
dipping  in  their  leaves.  Then  the  river  would  make 
a  sweep  and  forsake  its  bank,  leaving  a  peninsula 
of  alluvial  land  between,  where  the  geranium  and  the 
hyacinth  and  the  iris  grew  in  deep,  moist  soil.  One 
of  these  was  almost  clear  of  wood  and  carpeted  with 
thick,  soft  turf,  and  the  river  beside  it  was  broad  and 
shining. 

"We  shall  go  down  here,"  said  the  General,  "and  I 
will  show  you  something  that  I  count  the  finest  monu- 
ment in  Perthshire,  or  maybe  in  broad  Scotland." 


A   PLEASAUNCE.  83 

In  the  centre  of  the  sward,  with  trees  just  touching 
it  with  the  tips  of  their  branches,  was  a  little  square, 
with  a  simple  weather-beaten  railing.  And  the  Gen- 
eral led  Kate  to  the  spot,  and  stood  for  a  while  in 
silence. 

"Two  young  Scottish  lassies,  Kate,  who  died  two 
hundred  years  ago,  and  were  buried  here,  and  this  is  the 
ballad  - 

" '  Bessie  Bell  and  Mary  Grey 
They  were  twa  bonnie  lassies, 
They  biggit  a  hoose  on  yonder  brae 
And  theikit  it  ower  wi'  rashes.'  " 

Then  the  General  and  Kate  sat  down  by  the  river 
edge,  and  he  told  her  the  deathless  story,  —  how  in  the 
plague  of  1666  they  fled  to  this  district  to  escape  infec- 
tion ;  how  a  lover  came  to  visit  one  of  them  and  brought 
death  in  his  kiss ;  how  they  sickened  and  died ;  how 
they  were  laid  to  rest  beside  the  Tochty  water ;  and  gen- 
erations have  made  their  pilgrimage  to  the  place,  so 
wonderful  and  beautiful  is  love.  They  loved,  and  their 
memory  is  immortal. 

Kate  rested  her  chin  on  her  hand  and  gazed  at  the 
running  water,  which  continued  while  men  and  women 
live  and  love  and  die. 

"He  ought  not  to  have  come ;  it  was  a  cowardly, 
selfish  act,  but  I  suppose,"  added  the  General,  "  he 
could  not  keep  away." 

"  Be  sure  she  thought  none  the  less  of  him  for  his  com- 
ing, and  I  think  a  woman  will  count  life  itself  a  small 
sacrifice  for  love,"  and  Kate  went  over  to  the  grave. 

A  thrush  was  singing  as  they  turned  to  go,  and  noth- 
ing was  said  on  the  way  home  till  they  came  near  the 
Lodge. 


84  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"Who  can  that  be  going  in,  Kate?  He  seems  a 
padre." 

"  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  be  our  fellow  traveller  from 
Muirtown;  but  he  has  been  redressing  himself,  and  is 
not  improved. 

"Father,"  and  Kate  stayed  the  General,  as  they 
crossed  the  threshold  of  their  home,  "  we  have  seen 
many  beautiful  things  to-day,  for  which  I  thank  you ; 
but  the  greatest  was  love." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A   WOMAN   OF   THE   NEW   DISPENSATION. 


ARMICHAEL'S  aunt,  who  equip- 
ped his  house,  was  determined 
on  one  point,  and  would  not 
hear  of  a  clerical  housekeeper 
for  her  laddie.  Margaret  Meik- 
lewham  —  a  woman  of  a  severe 
countenance,  and  filled  with  the 

UQJMBMK'" 

•f   spirit  of  the  Disruption  —  who  had  gov- 
erned the  minister  of  Pitscowrie  till  his 
decease,  and  had  been  the  terror  of  callow 
young  probationers,  offered  herself,  and  gave 
instances  of  her  capability. 

"  Gin  ye  leave  yir  nephew  in  my  hands,  ye 
needna  hae  ony  mair  concern.     A  '11  manage 
him  fine,  an'    haud    him    on   the    richt  road. 
Ye  may  lippen  tae  't,  a'  wesna  five  and  thirty 
year  wi'  Maister  MacWheep  for  naethin'. 

"  He  wes  a  wee  fractious  and  self-willed  at  the  off-go, 
an'  wud  be  wantin'  this  an'  that  for  his  denner,  but  he 
sune  learned  tae  tak'  what  wes  pit  afore  him ;  an'  as  for 
gaein'  oot  withoot  tellin'  me,  he  wud  as  sune  hae  thocht 
o'  fleein' ;  when  he  cam'  in  he  keepit  naethin'  back  at 
his  tea. 


86  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"  Preachin'  wes  kittle  wark  in  Pitscoorie,  for  the  fouk 
were  awfu'  creetics,  though  they  didna  maybe  think  sae 
muckle  o'  themselves  as  Drumtochty.  A'  aye  githered 
their  jidgment  through  the  week,  an'  gin  he  hed  made  a 
slip  meddling  wi'  warks  or  sic-like  in  his  sermon,  it  wes 
pit  richt  next  Sabbath,  and  sovereignty  whuppit  in  at  the 
feenish. 

"  Ye  ken  the  Auld  Kirk  hes  tae  be  watchit  like  a  cat 
wi'  a  moose,  an'  though  a'  say  it  as  sudna,  Maister  Mac- 
Wheep  wud  hae  made  a  puir  job  o'  the  business  himsel'. 
The  pairish  meenister  wes  terrible  plausible,  an'  askit  oor 
man  tae  denner  afore  he  wes  settled  in  his  poopit,  an'  he 
wes  that  simple,  he  wud  hae  gaen,"  and  Margaret  indi- 
cated by  an  uplifting  of  her  eyebrows  the  pitiable  inno- 
cence of  MacWheep. 

"Ye  guidit  him,  nae  doot?"  inquired  Carmichael's 
aunt,  with  interest. 

" '  Maister  MacWheep,'  says  I,"  and  Miss  Meikle- 
wham's  lips  were  very  firm,  " '  a  '11  no  deny  that  the 
Auld  Kirk  is  Christian,  an'  a've  never  said  that  a  Mod- 
erate cudna  be  savit,  but  the  less  trokin'  (trafficking)  ye 
hae  wi'  them  the  better.  There  's  maybe  naethin'  wrang 
wi'  a  denner,  but  the  next  thing  '11  be  an  exchange  o' 
poopits,  and  the  day  ye  dae  that  ye  may  close  the  Free 
Kirk.' 

"  And  the  weemen  "  —  here  the  housekeeper  paused 
as  one  still  lost  in  amazement  at  the  audacity  with  which 
they  had  waylaid  the  helpless  MacWheep  —  "  there  wes 
ae  madam  in  Muirtown  that  hed  the  face  tae  invite  her- 
seF  oot  tae  tea  wi'  three  dochters,  an'  the  way  they  wud 
flatter  him  on  his  sermons  wes  shamefu'. 

"  If  they  didna  begin  askin'  him  tae  stay  wi'  them  on 
Presbytery  days,  and  Mrs.  MacOmish  hed  the  face  tae 


A  WOMAN    OF   THE    NEW   DISPENSATION.    87 

peety  him  \vi'  naebody  but  a  hoosekeeper.  He  lat  oot 
tae  me  though  that  the  potatoes  were  as  hard  as  a  stone 
at  denner,  an'  that  he  hed  juist  ae  blanket  on  his  bed, 
which  wesna  great  management  for  four  weemen." 

As  Carmichael's  aunt  seemed  to  be  more  and  more 
impressed,  Margaret  moistened  her  lips  and  rose  higher. 

"  So  the  next  time  ma  lady  comes  oot  tae  see  the 
spring  flowers,"  she  said,  "  a'  explained  that  the  minister 
wes  sae  delicate  that  a'  didna  coont  it  richt  for  him  tae 
change  his  bed,  and  a'  thocht  it  wud  be  mair  comfortable 
for  him  tae  come  hame  on  the  Presbytery  nichts,  an' 
safer. 

"  What  said  she?  No  a  word,"  and  Miss  Meiklewham 
recalled  the  ancient  victory  with  relish.  "  She  lookit  at 
me,  and  a'  lookit  at  her,  an'  naething  passed;  but  that 
wes  the  laist  time  a'  saw  her  at  the  manse.  A  've  he*  I 
experience,  and  a  'm  no  feared  tae  tak'  chairge  o'  yi  • 
nephew." 

Carmichael's  aunt  was  very  deferential,  complimenting 
the  eminent  woman  on  her  gifts  and  achievements,  and 
indicating  that  it  would  be  hard  for  a  young  Free  Kirk 
minister  to  obtain  a  better  guardian ;  but  she  had 
already  made  arrangements  with  a  woman  from  the 
south,  and  could  not  change. 

Drumtochty  was  amazed  at  her  self-will,  and  declared 
by  the  mouth  of  Kirsty  Stewart  that  Carmichael's  aunt 
had  flown  in  the  face  of  Providence.  Below  her  gentle 
simplicity  she  was  however  a  shrewd  woman,  and  was 
quite  determined  that  her  nephew  should  not  be  handed 
over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  clerical  housekeeper, 
who  is  said  to  be  a  heavier  yoke  than  the  Confession 
of  Faith,  for  there  be  clever  ways  of  escape  from  con- 
fessions, but  none  from  Margaret  Meiklewham ;  and 


88  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

while  all  the  churches  are  busy  every  year  in  explaining 
that  their  Articles  do  not  mean  what  they  say,  Miss 
Meiklewham  had  a  snort  which  was  beyond  all  she  said, 
and  that  was  not  by  any  means  restricted. 

"  John,"  said  Carmichael's  aunt,  one  day  after  they 
had  been  buying  carpets,  "  I  've  got  a  housekeeper  for 
you  that  will  keep  you  comfortable  and  can  hold  her 
tongue,"  but  neither  then  nor  afterwards,  neither  to  her 
nephew  nor  to  Drumtochty,  did  Carmichael's  aunt  tell 
where  she  secured  Sarah. 

"  That 's  my  secret,  John,"  she  used  to  say,  with  much 
roguishness,  "  an'  ye  maun  confess  that  there  's  ae  thing 
ye  dinna  ken.  Ye  '11  hae  the  best-kept  manse  in  the 
Presbytery,  an"  ye  '11  hae  nae  concern,  sae  be  content." 

Which  he  was,  and  asked  no  questions,  so  that  he 
knew  no  more  of  Sarah  the  day  she  left  than  the  night 
she  arrived  ;  and  now  he  sometimes  speculates  about  her 
history,  but  he  has  no  clue. 

She  was  an  event  in  the  life  of  the  parish,  and  there 
are  those  who  speak  of  her  unto  this  day  with  exaspera- 
tion. The  new  housekeeper  was  a  subject  of  legitimate 
though  ostentatiously  veiled  curiosity,  and  it  was  ex- 
pected that  a  full  biography  by  Elspeth  Macfadyen 
would  be  at  the  disposal  of  the  kirkyard,  as  well  as  the 
Free  Kirk  gate,  within  ten  days  of  her  arrival ;  it  might 
even  be  on  the  following  Sabbath,  although  it  was  felt 
that  this  was  asking  too  much  of  Elspeth. 

It  was  on  the  Friday  evening  Mrs.  Macfadyen  called, 
with  gifts  of  butter  and  cream  for  the  minister,  and  was 
received  with  grave,  silent  courtesy.  While  they  played 
with  the  weather,  the  visitor  made  a  swift  examination, 
and  she  gave  the  results  on  Sabbath  for  what  they  were 
worth. 


A  WOMAN    OF  THE    NEW   DISPENSATION.     89 

"  A  tall,  black  wumman,  spare  an'  erect,  no  ill-faured 
nor  ill-made  ;  na,  na,  a  '11  alloo  that ;  a  trig,  handy  cum- 
mer, wi'  an  eye  like  a  hawk  an'  a  voice  like  pussy ; 
nane  o'  yir  gossipin',  haverin',  stravaigin'  kind.  He  '11 
be  clever  'at  gets  onything  out  o'  her  or  maks  much  o'  a 
bargain  wi'  her. 

"  Sail,  she  's  a  madam  an'  nae  mistak'.  If  that  waefu", 
cunnin',  tramping  wratch  Clockie  didna  come  tae  the 
door,  where  I  was  sittin',  an'  askit  for  the  new  minister. 
Ye  ken  he  used  tae  come  an'  hear  Maister  Cunningham 
on  the  principles  o'  the  Disruption  for  an  'oor,  givin' 
oot  that  he  wes  comin'  roond  tae  the  Free  Kirk  view; 
then  he  got  his  denner  an'  a  suit  o'  claithes." 

"  A'  mind  o'  Clockie  gettin'  five  shillin's  ae  day,"  re- 
marked Jamie  Soutar,  who  was  at  the  Free  Kirk  that 
morning ;  "  he  hed  started  Dr.  Chalmers  wi'  the  minis- 
ter ;  Dr.  Guthrie  he  coontit  to  be  worth  aboot  half-a- 
croon ;  but  he  aince  hed  three  shillin's  oot  o'  the 
Cardross  case.  He  wes  graund  on  the  doctrine  o' 
speeritual  independence,  and  terrible  drouthy ;  but  a  'm 
interruptin'  ye,  Elspeth." 

" '  The  minister  is  at  dinner,'  says  she,  '  and  can't  be 
disturbed ;  he  sees  no  one  at  the  door.' 

"  '  It 's  reeligion  a  'm  come  aboot,'  says  Clockie, 
stickin'  in  his  foot  tae  keep  the  door  open,  '  an'  a  '11  juist 
wait  at  the  fire.' 

"  '  It 's  more  likely  to  be  whisky  from  your  breath, 
and  you  will  find  a  public-house  in  the  village  ;  we  give 
nothing  to  vagrants  here.'  Then  she  closed  the  door  on 
his  foot,  and  the  language  he  used  in  the  yard  wesna 
connectit  wi'  reeligion." 

Drumtochty  admitted  that  this  showed  a  woman  of 
vigour  —  although  our  conventions  did  not  allow  us  to 


9o  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

treat  Clockie  or  any  known  wastrel  so  masterfully  —  and 
there  was  an  evident  anxiety  to  hear  more. 

"  Her  dress  wes  black  an'  fittit  like  a  glove,  an'  wes  set 
aff  wi'  a  collar  an'  cuffs,  an'  a'  saw  she  hedna  come  frae 
the  country,  so  that  wes  ae  thing  settled  ;  yon  's  either  a 
toon  dress  or  maybe  her  ain  makin'  frae  patterns. 

"  It  micht  be  Edinburgh  or  Glesgie,  but  a'  began  tae 
jalouse  England  aifter  hearin'  her  hannel  Clockie,  sae  a' 
watchit  for  a  word  tae  try  her  tongue." 

"  Wurk  is  a  gude  handy  test,"  suggested  Jamie  ;  "  the 
English  hae  barely  ae  r,  and  the  Scotch  hae  aboot  sax 
in't." 

"  She  wudna  say  't,  Jamie,  though  a'  gied  her  a  chance, 
speakin'  aboot  ae  wumman  daein'  a'thing  in  the  manse, 
sae  a'  fell  back  on  church,  an'  that  brocht  oot  the  truth. 
She  didna  say  '  chich,'  so  she  's  no  English  born,  and 
she  didna  say  '  churrrch,'  so  she  's  been  oot  o'  Scotland. 
It  wes  half  and  between,  and  so  a'  said  it  wud  be  pleas- 
ant for  her  tae  be  in  her  ain  country  again,  aifter  livin'  in 
the  sooth." 

Her  hearers  indicated  that  Elspeth  had  not  fallen  be- 
neath herself,  and  began  to  woqder  how  a  woman  who 
had  lived  in  London  would  fit  into  Drumtochty. 

"  What  div  ye  think  she  said  tae  me?  "  Then  Drum- 
tochty understood  that  there  had  been  an  incident,  and 
that  Elspeth  as  a  conversationalist,  if  not  as  a  racon- 
teur, had  found  her  equal. 

" '  You   are  very  kind    to    think    of  my  movements, 
but '  '    —  and  here  Mrs.  Macfadyen  spoke  very  slowly  — 
"  '  I'm  afraid  they  don't  teach  home  geography  at  your 
school.     Paisley  is  not  out  of  Scotland.'  " 

"  Ye  Ve  met  yir  match,  Elspeth,"  said  Jamie,  with  a 
hoarse  chuckle,  and  the  situation  was  apparent  to  all. 


A  WOMAN    OF   THE    NEW  DISPENSATION.     91 

It  was  evident  that  the  new  housekeeper  was  minded  to 
hide  her  past,  and  the  choice  of  her  last  residence  was  a 
stroke  of  diabolical  genius.  Paisley  is  an  ancient  town 
inhabited  by  a  virtuous  and  industrious  people,  who  used 
to  make  shawls  and  now  spin  thread,  and  the  atmosphere 
is  so  literary  that  it  is  believed  every  tenth  man  is  a  poet. 
Yet  people  do  not  boast  of  having  been  born  there,  and 
natives  will  pretend  they  came  from  Greenock.  No  one 
can  mention  Paisley  without  a  smile,  and  yet  no  one  can 
say  what  amused  him.  Certain  names  are  the  source  of 
perennial  laughter,  in  which  their  inhabitants  join  doubt- 
fully, as  persons  not  sure  whether  to  be  proud  or  angry. 
They  generally  end  in  an  apology,  while  the  public, 
grasping  vaguely  at  the  purpose  of  such  a  place,  settle 
on  it  every  good  tale  that  is  going  about  the  world  un- 
provided for  and  fatherless.  So  a  name  comes  to  be 
bathed  in  the  ridiculous,  and  a  mere  reference  to  it 
passes  for  a  stroke  of  supreme  felicity. 

"Paisley"  —  Jamie  again  tasted  the  idea  —  "she  '11 
be  an  acqueesition  tae  the  Glen." 

It  was  Sarah's  first  stroke  of  character  to  arrive  with- 
out notice  —  having  utterly  baffled  Peter  at  the  Junction 
—  and  to  be  in  complete  possession  of  the  manse  on 
the  return  of  Carmichael  and  his  aunt  from  pastoral 
visits. 

"Sarah,"  cried  the  old  lady  in  amazement  at  the 
sight  of  the  housekeeper  in  full  uniform,  calm  and  self- 
possessed,  as  one  having  been  years  in  this  place,  "  when 
did  ye  come  ?  " 

"Two  hours  ago,  m'am,  and  I  think  I  understand  the 
house.  Shall  I  bring  tea  into  the  dining-room,  or  would 
you  rather  have  it  in  the  study?  "  But  she  did  not  once 
glance  past  his  aunt  to  Carmichael,  who  was  gazing  in 


92  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

silence  at  this  composed  young  woman    in   the   door- 
way. 

"This  is  Sarah,  John,  who  hes  come  to  keep  yir 
house,"  and  his  aunt  stepped  back.  "  Sarah,  this  is  my 
dear  laddie,  the  minister." 

Perhaps  because  her  eyes  were  of  a  flashing  black  that 
pierced  one  like  a  steel  blade,  Sarah  usually  looked  down 
in  speaking  to  you,  but  now  she  gave  Carmichael  one 
swift,  comprehensive  look  that  judged  him  soul  and 
body,  then  her  eyes  fell,  and  her  face,  always  too  hard 
and  keen,  softened. 

"  I  will  try,  sir,  to  make  you  comfortable,  and  you  will 
tell  me  anything  that  is  wrong." 

"You  took  us  by  surprise,  Sarah,"  and  Carmichael, 
after  his  hearty  fashion,  seized  his  housekeeper's  hand ; 
"let  me  bid  you  welcome  to  the  manse.  I  hope  you 
will  be  happy  here,  and  not  feel  lonely." 

But  the  housekeeper  only  bowed,  and  turned  to  his  aunt. 

"  Dinner  at  six?  As  you  were  not  in,  and  it  did  not 
seem  any  use  consulting  the  woman  that  was  here,  I  am 
preparing  for  that  hour." 

"  Well,  ye  see,  Sarah,  we  have  just  been  taking  tea, 
with  something  to  it,  but  if — " 

"Gentlemen  prefer  evening  dinner,  ma'am." 

"  Quite  right,  Sarah,"  burst  in  Carmichael  in  great 
glee  ;  "  tea-dinner  is  the  most  loathsome  meal  ever  in- 
vented, and  we  '11  never  have  it  in  the  Free  Manse. 

"  That  is  an  admirable  woman,  auntie,"  as  Sarah  dis- 
appeared, "  with  sound  views  on  important  subjects. 
I  '11  never  ask  again  where  she  came  from ;  she  is  her 
own  testimonial." 

"  You  mauna  be  extravagant,  John ;  Sarah  hes  never 
seen  a  manse  before,  and  I  must  tell  her  not  to  —  " 


A  WOMAN   OF  THE   NEW  DISPENSATION.     93 

"  Ruin  me,  do  you  mean,  by  ten  courses  every  evening, 
like  the  dinners  West- end  philanthropists  used  to  give 
our  men  to  show  them  how  to  behave  at  table  ?  We  '11 
be  very  economical,  only  having  meat  twice  a  week  — 
salt  fish  the  other  days  —  but  it  will  always  be  dinner." 

"What  ails  you  at  tea-dinner,  John?  it's  very  tasty 
and  homely." 

"  It 's  wicked,  auntie,  and  has  done  more  injury  to  re- 
ligion than  drinking.  No,  I  'm  not  joking  —  that  is  a 
childish  habit  —  but  giving  utterance  to  profound  truth, 
which  ought  to  be  proclaimed  on  the  house-tops,  or  per- 
haps in  the  kitchens. 

"Let  me  explain,  and  I  '11  make  it  as  plain  as  day — 
all  heresy  is  just  bad  thinking,  and  that  comes  from  bad 
health,  and  the  foundation  of  health  is  food.  A  certain 
number  of  tea-dinners  would  make  a  man  into  a  Ply- 
mouth brother.  It 's  a  mere  question  of  time. 

"You  see  if  a  man's  digestion  is  good  he  takes  a 
cheerful  view  of  things ;  but  if  he  is  full  of  bile,  then  he 
is  sure  that  everybody  is  going  to  be  lost  except  himself 
and  his  little  set,  and  that 's  heresy.  Apologetics  is  just 
dietetics ;  now  there  's  an  epigram  made  for  you  on  the 
spot,  and  you  don't  know  what  it  means,  so  we  '11  have 
a  walk  instead." 

His  aunt  knew  what  was  coming,  but  was  too  late  to 
resist,  so  she  was  twice  taken  round  the  room  for  exer- 
cise, till  she  cried  out  for  mercy,  and  was  left  to  rest  while 
Carmichael  went  out  to  get  an  appetite  for  that  dinner. 

Nothing  was  said  during  its  progress,  but  when  Sarah 
had  finally  departed  after  her  first  triumph,  won  under 
every  adverse  circumstance  of  strangeness  and  limited 
resources,  Carmichael  took  his  aunt's  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  It  is  an  illuminated  address  you  deserve,  auntie,  for 


94  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

such  a  paragon ;  as  it  is,  I  shall  be  the  benefactor  of  a 
Presbytery,  asking  the  men  up  by  turns  on  fast-days,  and 
sending  them  home  speechless  with  satisfaction." 

"  Sarah  was  always  a  clever  woman  ;  if  she  had  only 
-  "  But  Carmichael  heard  not,  in  his  boyish  excite- 
ment of  householding. 

"  Clever  is  a  cold  word  for  such  genius.  Mark  my 
words,  there  is  not  a  manse  in  Perthshire  that  shall  not 
sound  with  the  praise  of  Sarah.  I  vow  perpetual  celibacy 
on  the  spot.  No  man  would  dream  of  marrying  that  had 
the  privilege  of  such  a  housekeeper." 

"  Ye  're  a  silly  laddie,  John ;  but  some  day  a  fair  face 
will  change  a'  yer  life,  an'  if  she  be  a  good  wumman  like 
your  mother,  I  '11  thank  God." 

"  No  woman  can  be  compared  with  her,"  and  the 
minister  sobered.  "You  and  she  have  spoiled  me  for 
other  women,  and  now  you  have  placed  me  beyond 
temptation  with  such  a  cook." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Carmichael,  who  knew  nothing 
about  fine  cooking  till  Sarah  formed  his  palate  with  her 
cunning  sauces,  and,  after  all,  cared  as  little  what  he  ate  as 
any  other  healthy  young  man,  boasted  of  his  housekeeper 
continually  by  skilful  allusions,  till  the  honest  wives  of 
his  fathers  and  brethren  were  outraged  and  grew  feline, 
as  any  natural  woman  will  if  a  servant  is  flung  in  her  face 
in  this  aggravating  fashion. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  you  're  so  well  pleased,  Mr.  Car- 
michael," Mrs.  MacGuffie  would  say,  who  was  full  of 
advice,  and  fed  visitors  on  the  produce  of  her  garden, 
"  but  no  man  knows  comfort  till  he  marries.  It 's  a  chop 
one  day  and  a  steak  the  next  all  the  year  round  —  noth- 
ing tasty  or  appetising ;  and  as  for  his  shirts,  most 
bachelors  have  to  sew  on  their  own  buttons.  Ah,  you 


A   WOMAN    OF   THE    NEW  DISPENSATION.     95 

all  pretend  to  be  comfortable,  but  I  know  better,  for  Mr. 
MacGuffie  has  often  told  me  what  he  suffered." 

Whereat  Carmichael  would  rage  furiously,  and  then, 
catching  sight  of  MacGuffie,  would  bethink  him  of  a 
Christian  revenge.  MacGuffie  was  invited  up  to  a  day  of 
humiliation  —  Sarah  receiving  for  once  carte  blanche  — 
and  after  he  had  powerfully  exhorted  the  people  from  the 
words,  "  I  am  become  like  a  bottle  in  the  smoke,"  he 
was  conducted  to  the  manse  in  an  appropriately  mourn- 
ful condition,  and  set  down  at  the  table.  He  was  in- 
clined to  dwell  on  the  decadence  of  Disruption  princi- 
ples during  soup,  but  as  the  dinner  advanced  grew  won- 
derfully cheerful,  and  being  installed  in  an  arm-chair 
with  a  cup  of  decent  coffee  beside  him,  sighed  peace- 
fully, and  said,  "  Mr.  Carmichael,  you  have  much  cause 
for  thankfulness."  Mr.  MacGuffie  had  not  come  to  the 
age  of  sixty,  however,  without  learning  something,  and 
he  only  gave  his  curious  spouse  to  understand  that  Car- 
michael had  done  all  in  his  power  to  make  his  guest  com- 
fortable, and  was  not  responsible  for  his  servant's  defects. 

Ladies  coming  with  their  husbands  to  visit  the  manse, 
conceived  a  prejudice  against  Sarah  on  the  general 
ground  of  dislike  to  all  housekeepers  as  a  class  of  ser- 
vants outside  of  any  mistress's  control,  and  therefore  apt 
to  give  themselves  airs,  and  especially  because  this  one 
had  a  subtle  suggestion  of  independent  personality  that 
was  all  the  more  irritating  because  it  could  not  be 
made  plain  to  the  dull  male  intelligence,  which  was 
sadly  deceived. 

"  What  a  lucky  man  Carmichael  is  on  his  first  ven- 
ture !  "  Even  Dr.  Dowbiggin,  of  St.  Columba's,  Muir- 
town,  grew  enthusiastic  to  his  wife  in  the  privacy  of  their 
bedchamber  on  a  sacramental  visit,  and  every  one  knows 


96  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

that  the  Doctor  was  a  responsible  man,  ministering  to 
four  bailies  and  making  "  overtures  "  to  the  Assembly, 


"  MR.  CARMICHAEL,    YOU   HAVE   MUCH    CAUSE    FOR 
THANKFULNESS." 

beginning  with  "Whereas"  and  ending  with  "Vener- 
able House."  "  I  am  extremely  pleased  to  see  .  .  . 
everything  so  nice." 


A  WOMAN    OF   THE   NEW  DISPENSATION.     97 

"  You  mean,  James,  that  you  have  had  a  good  dinner, 
far  too  ambitious  for  a  young  minister's  table.  Did  you 
ever  see  an  entree  on  a  Disruption  table,  or  dessert  with 
finger  glasses?  I  call  it  sinful  —  for  the  minister  of 
Drumtochty,  at  least ;  and  I  don't  believe  he  was  ever 
accustomed  to  such  ways.  If  she  attended  to  his 
clothes,  it  would  set  her  better  than  cooking  French 
dishes.  Did  you  notice  the  coat  he  was  wearing  at  the 
station? — just  like  a  gamekeeper.  But  it  is  easy  for  a 
woman  to  satisfy  a  man ;  give  him  something  nice  to 
eat,  and  he  '11  ask  no  more." 

"So  far  as  my  recollection  serves  me,  Maria" — the 
Doctor  was  ruffled,  and  fell  into  his  public  style  —  "I 
made  no  reference  to  food,  cooked  or  uncooked,  and 
perhaps  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  it  is  not  a  subject 
one  thinks  of  .  .  .  at  such  seasons.  What  gave  me 
much  satisfaction  was  to  see  one  of  our  manses  so  pre- 
sentable ;  as  regards  the  housekeeper,  so  far  as  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  observing,  she  seemed  a  very  capable 
woman  indeed,"  and  the  Doctor  gave  one  of  his  coughs, 
which  were  found  most  conclusive  in  debate. 

"  It 's  easy  to  be  a  man's  servant,"  retorted  Mrs.  Dow- 
biggin,  removing  a  vase  of  flowers  from  the  dressing- 
table  with  contempt,  "  for  they  never  look  below  the 
surface.  Did  you  notice  her  hands,  as  white  and  smooth 
as  a  lady's  ?  You  may  be  sure  there  's  little  scrubbing 
and  brushing  goes  on  in  this  manse." 

"How  do  you  know,  Maria?"  —  the  Doctor  was 
weakening.  "  You  have  never  been  in  the  house  before." 

"  We  '11  soon  see  that,  James,  though  I  dare  say  it 
would  never  occur  to  a  man  to  do  such  a  thing.  Did 
you  ever  look  below  the  bed?" 

"  Never,"  replied  the  Doctor,  promptly,  who  was  not 
7 


98  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

constructed  to  stoop,  "  and  I  am  not  going  to  begin  after 
that  ...  ah  ...  this  evening,  with  work  before  me  to- 
morrow. But  I  would  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  I  have  done  so  every  night  of  my  life  for  fear  of 
robbers,  and  the  dust  I  've  seen  in  strange  houses  — 
it 's  there  you  can  tell  a  good  servant,"  and  Mrs.  Dow- 
biggin  nodded  with  an  air  of  great  sagacity. 

"Well,"  demanded  the  Doctor,  anxiously  watching 
the  operation,  "guilty  or  not  guilty?" 

"She  knew  what  I  would  do.  I  hate  those  sharp 
women ;  "  and  then  the  Doctor  grew  so  eloquent  over 
uncharitable  judgments  and  unreasonable  prejudices  that 
his  wife  denounced  Sarah  bitterly  as  a  "  cunning  woman 
who  got  on  the  blind  side  of  gentlemen." 

Her  popularity  with  Carmichael's  friends  was  beyond 
question,  for  though  she  was  a  reserved  woman,  with  no 
voluntary  conversation,  they  all  sent  messages  to  her, 
inquired  for  her  well-being  at  Fast-days,  and  brought 
her  gifts  of  handkerchiefs,  gloves,  and  such  like.  When 
they  met  at  Theologicals  and  Synods  they  used  to  talk  of 
Sarah  with  unction  —  till  married  men  were  green  with 
envy  —  being  simple  fellows  and  helpless  in  the  hands 
of  elderly  females  of  the  Meiklewham  genus.  For  there 
are  various  arts  by  which  a  woman,  in  Sarah's  place,  wins 
a  man's  gratitude,  and  it  may  be  admitted  that  one  is 
skilful  cooking.  Sensible  and  book-reading  men  do  not 
hunger  for  six  courses,  but  they  are  critical  about  their 
toast  and  .  .  .  nothing  more,  for  that  is  the  pulse. 
Then  a  man  also  hates  to  have  any  fixed  hour  for  breakfast 
—  never  thinking  of  houses  where  they  have  prayers  at 
7.50  without  a  shudder  —  but  a  man  refuses  to  be  kept 
waiting  five  minutes  for  dinner.  If  a  woman  will  find 
his  belongings,  which  he  has  scattered  over  three  rooms 


A  WOMAN    OF  THE  NEW  DISPENSATION.      99 

and  the  hall,  he  invests  her  with  many  virtues,  and  if  she 
packs  his  portmanteau,  he  will  associate  her  with  St. 
Theresa.  But  if  his  hostess  be  inclined  to  discuss  prob- 
lems with  him,  he  will  receive  her  name  with  marked 
coldness  ;  and  if  she  follow  up  this  trial  with  evil  food, 
he  will  conceive  a  rooted  dislike  for  her,  and  will  flee 
her  house.  So  simple  is  a  man. 

When  Sarah  proposed  to  Carmichael  that  she  should 
prepare  breakfast  after  he  rung  for  his  hot  water,  and 
when  he  never  caught  a  hint  of  reproach  on  her  face 
though  he  sat  up  till  three  and  came  down  at  eleven,  he 
was  lifted,  hardly  believing  that  such  humanity  could  be 
found  among  women,  who  always  seem  to  have  a  time 
table  they  are  carrying  out  the  livelong  day. 

"The  millennium  is  near  at  hand,"  said  MacQueen, 
when  the  morning  arrangements  of  the  Free  Kirk  manse 
of  Drumtochty  were  made  known  to  him — MacQueen, 
who  used  to  arrive  without  so  much  as  a  nightshirt,  hav- 
ing left  a  trail  of  luggage  behind  him  at  various  junc- 
tions, and  has  written  books  so  learned  that  no  one  dares 
to  say  that  he  has  not  read  them.  Then  he  placed  an 
ounce  of  shag  handy,  and  Carmichael  stoked  the  fire, 
and  they  sat  down,  with  Beaton,  who  could  refer  to  the 
Sum  ma  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  they  discussed  the  Doctrine  of  Scripture  in  the 
Fathers,  and  the  formation  of  the  Canon,  and  the  author- 
ship of  the  Pentateuch  till  two  in  the  study.  Afterwards 
they  went  to  MacQueen's  room  to  hear  him  on  the  Tal- 
mud, and  next  adjourned  to  Beaton's  room,  who  offered 
a  series  of  twelve  preliminary  observations  on  the  Theol- 
ogy of  Rupert  of  Deutz,  whereupon  his  host  promptly 
put  out  his  candle,  leaving  that  man  of  supernatural 
memory  to  go  to  bed  in  the  dark ;  and  as  Carmichael 


ioo  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

pulled  up  the  blind  in  his  own  room,  the  day  was  break- 
ing and  a  blackbird  had  begun  to  sing.  Next  afternoon 
Beaton  had  resumed  his  observations  on  Rupert,  but  now 
they  were  lying  among  the  heather  on  the  side  of  Glen 
Urtach,  and  Carmichael  was  asleep,  while  MacQueen 
was  thinking  that  they  would  have  a  good  appetite  for 
dinner  that  evening. 

Sarah  had  only  one  fault  to  find  with  her  master,  and 
that  was  his  Bohemian  dress ;  but  since  it  pleased  him 
to  go  one  button  less  through  studied  carelessness,  she 
let  him  have  his  way;  and  as  for  everything  else,  she 
kept  her  word  to  his  aunt,  and  saw  that  he  wanted  for 
nothing,  serving  him  with  perpetual  thoughtfulness  and 
swift  capacity. 

Little  passed  between  them  except  a  good-natured 
word  or  two  from  him  and  her  courteous  answer,  but  she 
could  read  him  as  a  book,  and  when  he  came  home  that 
day  from  Muirtown  she  saw  he  was  changed.  He  was 
slightly  flushed,  and  he  could  not  sit  still,  wandering  in 
and  out  his  study  till  dinner-time.  He  allowed  the  soup 
to  cool,  and  when  she  came  in  with  sweets  he  had  barely 
touched  his  cutlet. 

"  It  is  the  sauce  you  like,  sir,"  with  some  reproach  in 
her  voice. 

"  So  it  is,  Sarah  —  and  first  rate."  Then  he  added 
suddenly,  "  Can  you  put  a  button  on  this  coat  to-night, 
and  give  it  a  good  brush  ?  " 

In  the  evening  Sarah  went  down  to  post  a  letter,  and 
heard  the  talk,  how  Miss  Carnegie  had  come  home  with 
the  General,  and  was  worthy  of  her  house ;  how  the 
minister  also  had  driven  up  with  her  from  Muirtown  ;  and 
on  her  return  she  did  her  best  by  the  coat,  handling  it  very 
kindly,  and  singing  softly  to  herself  "  Robin  Adair." 


A  WOMAN  OF  THE  NEW  DISPENSATION.      101 

Next  morning  he  came  down  in  his  blacks  —  the 
worst-made  suit  ever  seen  on  a  man,  ordered  to  help  a 
village  tailor  at  his  home  —  and  announced  his  intention 
of  starting  after  lunch  for  Saunderson's  manse,  beyond 
Tochty  woods,  where  he  would  stay  all  night.  • 

"  He  will  call  on  the  way  down,  and,  if  he  can,  com- 
ing back,"  Sarah  said  to  herself,  as  she  watched  him  go, 
"  but  it 's  a  pity  he  should  go  in  such  a  coat ;  it  might 
have  been  put  together  with  a  pitchfork.  It  only  makes 
the  difference  greater,  and  't  is  wider  than  he  knows 
already.  And  yet  a  woman  can  marry  beneath  her  with- 
out loss;  but  for  a  man  it  is  ruin." 

She  went  up  to  his  room  and  made  it  neat,  which  was 
ever  in  disorder  on  his  leaving,  and  then  she  went  to  s 
western  window  and  looked  into  the  far  distance. 


\ 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A   WOMAN   OF   THE  OLD    DISPENSATION. 

VERY  Sabbath  at  eleven 
o'clock,  or  as  soon  there- 
after as  the  people  were 
seated  —  consideration 
was  always  shown  to  dis- 
tant figures  coming  down 
from  the  high  glen  —  Car- 
michael  held  what  might 
called  High  Mass  in  the  Free 
Kirk.  Nothing  was  used  in  praise 
but  the  Psalms  of  David,  with  an 
occasional  Paraphrase  sanctioned 
by  usage  and  sound  teaching.  The 
prnyers  were  expected  to  be  elaborate 
in  expression  and  careful  in  statement, 
and  it  was  then  that  they  prayed  for  the 
Queen  and  Houses  of  Parliament.  And 
the  sermon  was  the  event  to  which  the  efforts  of  the 
minister  and  the  thoughts  of  the  people  had  been  mov- 
ing for  the  whole  week.  No  person  was  absent  except 
through  sore  sickness  or  urgent  farm  duty  ;  nor  did  rain 
or  snow  reduce  the  congregation  by  more  than  ten 
people,  very  old  or  very  young.  Carmichael  is  now 
minister  of  a  West  End  kirk,  and,  it  is  freely  rumoured 


A   WOMAN   OF  THE  OLD   DISPENSATION.     103 

in  Drumtochty,  has  preached  before  Lords  of  Session; 
but  he  has  never  been  more  nervous  than  facing  that 
handful  of  quiet,  impenetrable,  critical  faces  in  his  first 
kirk.  When  the  service  was  over,  the  people  broke  into 
little  bands  that  disappeared  along  the  west  road,  and 
over  the  moor,  and  across  the  Tochty.  Carmichael 
knew  each  one  was  reviewing  his  sermon  head  by  head, 
and,  pacing  his  garden,  he  remembered  the  missing 
points  with  dismay. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  Free  Kirk  minister  to  go  far 
afield  of  a  summer  evening,  and  to  hold  informal  ser- 
vices in  distant  parts  of  the  parish.  This  was  the  joy  of 
the  day  to  him,  who  was  really  very  young  and  hated  all 
conventionalities  even  unto  affectation.  He  was  never 
weary  of  complaining  that  he  had  to  wear  a  gown,  which 
was  continually  falling  back  and  being  hitched  over  with 
impatient  motions,  and  the  bands,  which  he  could  never 
tie,  and  were,  he  explained  to  a  horrified  beadle  in  Muir- 
town,  an  invention  of  Satan  to  disturb  the  preacher's 
soul  before  his  work.  Once,  indeed,  he  dared  to  appear 
without  his  trappings,  on  the  plea  of  heat,  but  the  visible 
dismay  and  sorrow  of  the  people  was  so  great  — -  some 
failing  to  find  the  Psalm  till  the  first  verse  had  been 
sung  —  that  he  perspired  freely  and  forgot  the  middle 
head  of  his  discourse. 

"  It 's  a  mercy,"  remarked  Mrs.  Macfadyen  to  Burn- 
brae  afterward,  "  that  he  didna  play  that  trick  when  there 
wes  a  bairn  tae  be  baptised.  It  wudna  hae  been  licht- 
some  for  its  fouk;  a'body  wants  a  properly  ordained 
minister.  Ye  '11  gie  him  a  hint,  Burnbrae,  for  he 's 
young  and  fordersome  (rash),  but  gude  stuff  for  a'  his 
pliskies  (frolics)." 

No  one  would  have  liked  to  see  the  sacred  robes  in 


104  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

the  places  of  evening  worship,  and  Carmichael  threw  all 
forms  to  the  winds  —  only  drawing  the  line,  with  great 
regret  and  some  searchings  of  heart,  at  his  tweed  jacket. 
His  address  for  these  summer  evening  gatherings  he 
studied  as  he  went  through  the  fragrant  pine  woods  or 
over  the  moor  by  springy  paths  that  twisted  through  the 
heather,  or  along  near  cuts  that  meant  leaping  little 
burns  and  climbing  dykes  whose  top  stones  were 
apt  to  follow  your  heels  with  embarrassing  attachment. 
Here  and  there  the  minister  would  stop  as  a  trout  leapt 
in  a  pool,  or  a  flock  of  wild  duck  crossed  the  sky  to 
Loch  Sheuchie,  or  the  cattle  thrust  inquisitive  noses 
through  some  hedge,  as  a  student  snatches  a  mouthful 
from  some  book  in  passing.  For  these  walks  were  his 
best  study ;  when  thinking  of  his  people  in  their  good- 
ness and  simplicity,  and  touched  by  nature  at  her  gen- 
tlest, he  was  freed  from  many  vain  ideas  of  the  schools 
and  from  artificial  learning,  and  heard  the  Galilean 
speak  as  He  used  to  do  among  the  fields  of  corn.  He 
came  on  people  going  in  the  same  direction,  but  they 
only  saluted,  jefraining  even  from  the  weather,  since  the 
minister's  thoughts  must  not  be  disturbed,  and  they  were 
amazed  to  notice  that  he  stooped  to  pluck  a  violet  in  the 
wood.  His  host  would  come  a  little  way  to  meet  him 
and  explain  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made  for  a 
kirk.  Sometimes  the  meeting-place  was  the  granary  of 
the  farm,  with  floor  swept  clean  and  the  wooden  shutters 
opened  for  light,  where  the  minister  preached  against  a 
mixed  background  of  fanners,  corn  measures,  piles  of 
sacks,  and  spare  implements  of  the  finer  sort ;  and  the 
congregation,  who  had  come  up  a  ladder  cautiously  like 
hens  going  to  roost  —  being  severally  warned  about  the 
second  highest  step  —  sat  on  bags  stuffed  with  straw, 


A  WOMAN   OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION.     105 

boards  resting  on  upturned  pails,  while  a  few  older  folk 
were  accommodated  with  chairs,  and  some  youngsters 
disdained  not  the  floor.  It  was  pleasanter  in  the  barn, 
a  cool,  lofty,  not  unimpressive  place  of  worship,  with  its 
mass  of  golden  straw  and  its  open  door  through  which 
various  kindly  sounds  of  farm  life  came  in  and  strange 
visitors  entered.  The  collies,  most  sociable  of  animals, 
would  saunter  in  and  make  friendly  advances  to  Car- 
michael  reading  a  chapter;  then,  catching  their  master's 
eye  and  detecting  no  encouragement,  would  suddenly 
realise  that  they  were  at  kirk,  and  compose  themselves 
to  sleep  —  "  juist  like  ony  Christian,"  as  Hillocks  once 
remarked  with  envy,  his  own  plank  allowing  no  liberties 
—  and  never  taking  any  part  except  in  a  hymn  like 

"  See  the  mighty  host  advancing, 
Satan  leading  on," 

which  they  regarded  as  recreation  rather  than  worship. 

It  was  also  recalled  for  years  that  a  pet  lamb  came 
into  Donald  Menzies's  barn  and  wandered  about  for  a 
while,  and  Carmichael  told  that  pretty  legend  of  St. 
Francis,  how  he  saw  a  white  lamb  among  the  kids,  and 
burst  into  tears  at  the  sight,  because  it  reminded  him  of 
Jesus  among  the  sinners.  Indeed,  these  services  were 
very  extemporaneous,  with  hymns  instead  of  psalms,  and 
sermons  without  divisions.  Carmichael  also  allowed 
himself  illustrations  from  the  life  around,  and  even  an 
anecdote  at  a  time,  which  was  all  the  more  keenly  rel- 
ished that  it  would  have  been  considered  a  confession  of 
weakness  in  a  regular  sermon.  He  has  been  heard  to 
say  that  he  came  nearer  the  heart  of  things  once  or 
twice  in  the  barns  than  he  has  ever  done  since,  not  even 
excepting  that  famous  course  of  sermons  every  one 


io6  KATE  CARNEGIE. 

talked  about  last  year,  the  "Analysis  of  Doubt,"  which 
almost  converted  two  professors  to  Christianity,  and  were 
heard  by  the  editor  of  the  Caledonian  in  the  disguise  of 
a  street  preacher.  It  was  also  pleasantly  remembered 
for  long  in  the  parish  that  Dr.  Davidson  appeared  one 
evening  in  Donald  Menzies's  barn  and  joined  affably  in 
the  "  Sweet  By-and-Bye."  Afterward,  being  supplied 
with  a  large  arm-chair,  he  heard  the  address  with  much 
attention  —  nodding  approval  four  times,  if  not  five  — 
and  pronouncing  the  benediction  with  such  impressive- 
ness  that  Donald  felt  some  hesitation  in  thrashing  his  last 
stack  in  the  place  next  day.  The  Doctor  followed  up 
this  visit  with  an  exhortation  from  the  pulpit  on  the  fol- 
lowing Sabbath,  in  which  he  carefully  distinguished  such 
services  by  an  ordained  minister,  although  held  in  a 
barn,  from  unlicensed  Plymouthistic  gatherings  held  in 
corn  rooms  —  this  at  Milton's  amateur  efforts  —  and 
advised  his  people  in  each  district  to  avail  themselves  of 
"  my  friend  Mr.  Carmichael's  excellent  ministrations," 
which  Papal  Bull,  being  distributed  to  the  furthest  cor- 
ner of  the  parish  before  nightfall,  greatly  lifted  the  Free 
Kirk  and  sweetened  the  blood  of  the  Glen  for  years.  It 
seemed  to  me,  watching  things  in  Drumtochty  during 
those  days  with  an  impartial  mind,  that  the  Doctor,  with 
his  care  for  the  poor,  his  sympathy  for  the  oppressed,  his 
interest  in  everything  human,  his  shrewd  practical  wis- 
dom, and  his  wide  toleration,  was  the  very  ideal  of  the 
parish  clergyman.  He  showed  me  much  courtesy  while 
I  lived  in  the  Cottage,  although  I  did  not  belong  to  his 
communion,  and  as  my  imagination  reconstructs  the  old 
parish  of  a  winter  night  by  the  fire,  I  miss  him  as  he 
used  to  be  on  the  road,  in  the  people's  homes,  in  his 
pulpit,  among  his  books — ever  an  honourable  and  kind- 
hearted  gentleman. 


A   WOMAN   OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION.     107 

One  evening  a  woman  came  into  Donald  Menzies's 
barn  just  before  the  hour  of  service,  elderly,  most  careful 
in  her  widow's  dress,  somewhat  austere  in  expression, 
but  very  courteous  in  her  manner.  No  one  recognised 
her  at  the  time,  but  she  was  suspected  to  be  the  fore- 
runner of  the  Carnegie  household,  and  Donald  offered 
her  a  front  seat.  She  thanked  him  for  his  good-will,  but 
asked  for  a  lower  place,  greatly  delighting  him  by  a  ref- 
erence to  the  parable  wherein  the  Master  rebuked  the 
ambitious  Pharisees  who  scrambled  for  chief  seats. 
Their  accent  showed  of  what  blood  they  both  were,  and 
that  their  Gaelic  had  still  been  mercifully  left  them,  but 
they  did  not  use  it  because  of  their  perfect  breeding, 
which  taught  them  not  to  speak  a  foreign  tongue  in  this 
place.  So  the  people  saw  Donald  offer  her  a  hymn-book 
and  heard  her  reply  : 

"  It  iss  not  a  book  that  I  will  be  using,  and  it  will  be  a 
peety  to  take  it  from  other  people  ; "  nor  would  she  stand 
at  the  singing,  but  sat  very  rigid  and  with  closed  lips. 
When  Carmichael,  who  had  a  pleasant  tenor  voice  and  a 
good  ear,  sang  a  solo,  then  much  tasted  in  such  meet- 
ings, she  arose  and  left  the  place,  and  the  minister 
thought  he  had  never  seen  anything  more  uncompromis- 
ing than  her  pale  set  face. 

It  was  evident  that  she  was  Free  Kirk  and  of  the 
Highland  persuasion,  which  was  once  over-praised  and 
then  has  been  over-blamed,  but  is  never  understood  by 
the  Lowland  mind ;  and  as  Carmichael  found  that  she 
had  come  to  live  in  a  cottage  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Lodge,  he  looked  in  on  his  way  home.  She  was  sitting 
at  a  table  reading  the  Bible,  and  her  face  was  more  hos- 
tile than  in  the  meeting  ;  but  she  received  him  with  much 
politeness,  dusting  a  chair  and  praying  him  to  be  seated. 


A  WOMAN  OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION.     109 

"  You  have  just  come  to  the  district  to  reside,  I  think  ? 
I  hope  you  will  like  our  Glen." 

"  It  wass  here  that  I  lived  long  ago,  but  I  hef  been 
married  and  away  with  my  mistress  many  years,  and 
there  are  not  many  that  will  know  me." 

"  But  you  are  not  of  Drumtochty  blood  ? "  inquired 
the  minister. 

'•'  There  iss  not  one  drop  of  Sassenach  blood  in  my 
veins"  — this  with  a  sudden  flash.  "I  am  a  Macpher- 
son  and  my  husband  wass  a  Macpherson ;  but  we  hef 
served  the  house  of  Carnegie  for  four  generations." 

"You  are  a  widow,  I  think,  Mrs.  Macpherson?"  and 
Carmichael's  voice  took  a  tone  of  sympathy.  "  Have 
you  any  children?" 

"  My  husband  iss  dead,  and  I  had  one  son,  and  he 
iss  dead  also ;  that  iss  all,  and  I  am  alone  ;  "  but  in  her 
voice  there  was  no  weakening. 

"Will  you  let  me  say  how  sorry  I  am?"  pleaded 
Carmichael ;  "  this  is  a  great  grief,  but  I  hope  you  have 
consolations." 

"  Yes,  I  will  be  having  many  consolations  ;  they  both 
died  like  brave  men  with  their  face  to  the  enemy.  There 
were  six  that  did  not  feel  fery  well  before  Ian  fell; 
he  could  do  good  work  with  the  sword  as  well  as  the 
bayonet,  and  he  wass  not  bad  with  the  dirk  at  a  time." 

Neither  this  woman  nor  her  house  were  like  anything 
in  Drumtochty,  for  in  it  there  was  a  buffet  for  dishes, 
and  a  carved  chest  and  a  large  chair,  all  of  old  black 
oak ;  and  above  the  mantelpiece  two  broadswords  were 
crossed,  with  a  circle  of  war  medals  beneath  on  a  velvet 
ground,  flanked  by  two  old  pistols. 

"  I  suppose  those  arms  have  belonged  to  your  people, 
Mrs.  Macpherson;  may  I  look  at  them?" 


no  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  They  are  not  anything  to  be  admiring,  and  it  wass 
not  manners  that  I  should  hef  been  boasting  of  my  men. 
It  iss  a  pleasant  evening  and  good  for  walking." 

"  You  were  at  the  meeting,  I  think?  "  and  Carmichael 
tried  to  get  nearer  this  iron  woman.  "  We  were  sorry 
you  had  to  go  out  before  the  end.  Did  you  not  feel  at 
home?" 

"  I  will  not  be  accustomed  to  the  theatre,  and  I  am 
not  liking  it  instead  of  the  church." 

"  But  surely  there  was  nothing  worse  in  my  singing 
alone  than  praying  alone?"  and  Carmichael  began  to 
argue  like  a  Scotsman,  who  always  fancies  that  people 
can  be  convinced  by  logic,  and  forgets  that  many  people, 
Celts  in  especial,  are  ruled  by  their  heart  and  not  by 
their  head ;  "  do  you  see  anything  wrong  in  one  praising 
God  aloud  in  a  hymn,  as  the  Virgin  Mary  did?  " 

"It  iss  the  Virgin  Mary  you  will  be  coming  to  next, 
no  doubt,  and  the  Cross  and  the  Mass,  like  the  Catholics, 
although  I  am  not  saying  anything  against  them,  for  my 
mother's  cousins  four  times  removed  were  Catholics,  and 
fery  good  people.  But  I  am  a  Presbyterian,  and  do  not 
want  the  Virgin  Mary." 

Carmichael  learned  at  that  moment  what  it  was  to 
argue  with  a  woman,  and  he  was  to  make  more  discover- 
ies in  that  department  before  he  came  to  terms  with  the 
sex,  and  would  have  left  in  despair  had  it  not  been  for 
an  inspiration  of  his  good  angel. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Macpherson,  I  did  n't  come  to  argue 
about  hymns,  but  to  bid  you  welcome  to  the  Glen  and 
to  ask  for  a  glass  of  water,  for  preaching  is  thirsty 
work." 

"  It  iss  black  shame  I  am  crying  on  myself  for  sitting 
here  and  offering  you  neither  meat  nor  drink,"  and  she 


A.  WOMAN  OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION,     in 

was  stung  with  regret  in  an  instant.  "  It  iss  a  little  spirits 
you  will  be  tasting,  and  this  iss  Talisker  which  I  will  be 
keeping  for  a  friend,  for  whisky  iss  not  for  women." 

She  was  full  of  attention,  but  when  Carmichael  took 
milk  instead  of  whisky,  her  suspicions  revived,  and  she 
eyed  him  again. 

"  You  are  not  one  of  those  new  people  I  am  hear- 
ing of  in  the  Lowlands  that  are  wiser  than  the  fery 
Apostles?" 

"  What  people  ?  "  and  Carmichael  trembled  for  his 
new  position. 

" '  Total  abstainers  '  they  will  call  themselves,"  and 
the  contempt  in  her  accent  was  wonderful. 

"  No,  I  am  not,"  Carmichael  hastened  to  reassure  his 
hostess  ;  "  but  there  are  worse  people  than  abstainers  in 
the  world,  and  it  would  be  better  if  we  had  a  few  more. 
I  will  stick  to  the  milk,  if  you  please." 

"  You  will  take  what  you  please,"  and  she  was  again 
mollified ;  "  but  the  great  ministers  always  had  their 
tasting  after  preaching ;  and  I  hef  heard  one  of  them 
say  that  it  wass  a  sin  to  despise  the  Lord's  mercies. 
You  will  be  taking  another  glass  of  milk  and  resting  a 
little." 

"  This  hospitality  reminds  me  of  my  mother,  Mrs. 
Macpherson."  Carmichael  was  still  inspired,  and  was, 
indeed,  now  in  full  sail.  "  She  was  a  Highland  woman, 
and  had  the  Gaelic.  She  sometimes  called  me  Ian 
instead  of  John." 

"When  you  wass  preaching  about  the  shepherd  find- 
ing the  sheep,  I  wass  wondering  how  you  had  the  way 
to  the  heart,  and  I  might  have  been  thinking,  oh  yes, 
I  might  hef  known"  —all  the  time  Janet  was  ever 
bringing  something  new  out  of  the  cupboard,  though 


ii2  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Carmichael   only  sipped   the   milk.     "  And   what   wass 
your  mother's  name?" 

"  Farquharson  ;  her  people  came  from  Braemar ;  but 
they  are  all  dead  now,  and  I  am  the  last  of  the  race." 

"A  good  clan,"  cried  Janet,  in  great  spirits,  "  and 
a  loyal ;  they  were  out  with  the  Macphersons  in  the 
'45.  Will  you  happen  to  know  whether  your  ancestor 
suffered?" 

"  That  he  did,  for  he  shot  an  English  officer  dead  on 
his  doorstep,  and  had  to  flee  the  country ;  it  was  not  a 
pretty  deed." 

"Had  the  officer  broken  bread  with  him?"  inquired 
Janet,  anxiously. 

"  No,  he  had  come  to  quarter  himself  and  his  men  on 
him,  and  said  something  rude  about  the  Prince." 

"  Your  ancestor  gave  him  back  his  word  like  a  gentle- 
man ;  but  he  would  maybe  hef  to  stay  away  for  a  while. 
Wass  he  of  the  chief's  blood?  " 

"  Oh  no,  just  a  little  laird,  and  he  lost  his  bit  of  land, 
and  we  never  saw  the  place  again." 

"  He  would  be  a  Dunniewassal,  and  proud  it  iss  I  am 
to  see  you  in  my  house ;  and  the  Gaelic,  will  you  hef 
some  words?" 

"  Just  the  sound  of  it,  Mrs.  Macpherson,"  and  he  re- 
peated his  three  sentences,  all  that  he  had  learned  of  his 
mother,  who  had  become  a  Scotswoman  in  her  speech. 

"  Call  me  Janet,  my  dear ;  and  it  iss  the  good  Gaelic 
your  mother  must  have  had,  and  it  makes  my  heart  glad 
to  think  my  minister  iss  a  Farquharson,  by  the  mother's 
side." 

"We  sing  nothing  but  Psalms  at  church,  Mrs.  .  .  . 
Janet,  so  you  will  be  pleased,  and  we  stand  to  pray  and 
sit  to  sing." 


A  WOMAN  OF  THE  OLD  DISPENSATION.     113 

"  Tuts,  tuts,  I  am  not  minding  about  a  bit  hime  at  a 
time  from  a  friend,  but  it  iss  those  Lovvlanders  meddling 
with  everything  I  do  not  like,  and  I  am  hoping  to  hear 
you  sing  again,  for  it  wass  a  fery  pretty  tune ;  "  and  the 
smith,  passing  along  the  road  when  Carmichael  left  that 
evening,  heard  Janet  call  him  "  my  dear,"  and  invoke 
a  thousand  blessings  on  his  head. 

When  he  called  again  in  the  end  of  the  week  to 
cement  the  alliance  and  secure  her  presence  on  Sabbath, 
Janet  was  polishing  the  swords,  and  was  willing  enough 
to  give  their  history. 

"  This  wass  my  great-grandfather's,  and  these  two 
nicks  in  the  blade  were  made  on  the  dragoons  at 
Prestonpans ;  and  this  wass  my  husband's  sword,  for 
he  wass  sergeant-major  before  he  died,  a  fery  brave  man, 
good  at  the  fighting  and  the  praying  too. 

"  Maybe  I  am  wrong,  and  I  do  not  know  what  you 
may  be  thinking,  but  things  come  into  my  mind  when  I 
am  reading  the  Bible,  and  I  will  be  considering  that  it 
wass  maybe  not  so  good  that  the  Apostles  were  fish- 
ing people." 

"What  ails  you  at  fishermen,  Janet?" 

"  Nothing  at  all  but  one  thing  ;  they  are  clever  at  their 
nets  and  at  religion,  but  I  am  not  hearing  that  they  can 
play  with  the  sword  or  the  dirk. 

"It  wass  a  fery  good  intention  that  Peter  had  that 
night,  no  doubt,  and  I  will  be  liking  him  for  it  when  he 
took  his  sword  to  the  policeman,  but  it  wass  a  mighty 
poor  blow.  If  Ian  or  his  father  had  got  as  near  as  that, 
it  would  not  have  been  an  ear  that  would  have  been 
missing." 

"  Perhaps  his  head,"  suggested  Carmichael. 

"  He  would  not  have  been  putting  his  nose  into  honest 
8 


ii4  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

people's  business  again,  at  any  rate,"  and  Janet  nodded 
her  head  as  one  who  could  see  a  downright  blow  that 
left  no  regrets ;  "  it  hass  always  made  me  ashamed  to 
read  about  that  ear. 

"  It  wass  not  possible,  and  it  iss  maybe  no  good  speak- 
ing about  it  now"  — Janet  felt  she  had  a  minister  now 
she  could  open  her  mind  to  —  "  but  it  would  hef  been 
better  if  our  Lord  could  hef  had  twelve  Macphersons  for 
His  Apostles." 

"  You  mean  they  would  have  been  more  brave  and 
faithful?" 

"  There  wass  a  price  of  six  thousand  pounds,  or  it 
might  be  four,  put  on  Cluny's  head  after  Culloden,  and 
the  English  soldiers  were  all  up  and  down  the  country,  but 
I  am  not  hearing  that  any  clansman  betrayed  his  chief. 

"  Thirty  pieces  of  silver  wass  a  fery  small  reward  for 
such  a  dirty  deed,  and  him  one  of  the  Chief's  tail  too ; 
it  wass  a  mistake  to  be  trusting  to  fisher  folk  instead  of 
Glen's  men. 

"There  iss  something  I  hef  wished,"  concluded  Janet, 
who  seemed  to  have  given  her  mind  to  the  whole  inci- 
dent, "  that  Peter  or  some  other  man  had  drawn  his 
skean-dhu  and  slippit  it  quietly  into  Judas.  We  would 
hef  been  respecting  him  fery  much  to-day,  and  it  would 
hef  been  a  good  lesson  —  oh  yes,  a  fery  good  lesson  — 
to  all  traitors." 

As  they  got  more  confidential,  Janet  began  to  speak 
of  signs  and  dreams,  and  Carmichael  asked  her  if  she 
had  the  second  sight. 

"  No ;  it  iss  not  a  lie  I  will  be  telling  you,  my  dear, 
nor  will  I  be  boasting.  1  have  not  got  it,  nor  had  my 
mother,  but  she  heard  sounds,  oh  yes,  and  knew  what 
wass  coining  to  pass. 


A.  WOMAN    OF  THE    OLD   DISPENSATION.     115 

" '  Janet,'  she  would  say,  '  I  have  heard  the  knock 
three  times  at  the  head  of  the  bed ;  it  will  be  your 
Uncle  Alister,  and  I  must  go  to  see  him  before  he 
dies.' " 

"And  was  she  —  " 

"  Oh  yes,  she  wass  in  time,  and  he  wass  expecting  her ; 
and  once  she  saw  the  shroud  begin  to  rise  on  her  sister, 
but  no  more ;  it  never  covered  the  face  before  her  eyes ; 
but  the  knock,  oh  yes,  many  times." 

"  Have  you  known  any  one  that  could  tell  what  was 
happening  at  a  distance,  and  gave  warning  of  danger?" 
for  the  latent  Celt  was  awakening  in  Carmichael,  with 
his  love  of  mystery  and  his  sense  of  the  unseen. 

"  Listen,  my  dear  "  — Janet  lowered  her  voice  as  one 
speaking  of  sacred  things  —  "and  I  will  tell  you  of  Ina 
Macpherson,  who  lived  to  a  hundred  and  two,  and  had 
the  vision  clear  and  sure. 

"  In  the  great  war  with  Russia  I  wass  staying  in  the 
clachan  of  my  people,  and  then  seven  lads  of  our  blood 
were  with  the  Black  Watch,  and  every  Sabbath  the 
minister  would  pray  for  them  and  the  rest  of  the  lads 
from  Badenoch  that  were  away  at  the  fighting. 

"  One  day  Ina  came  into  my  sister's  house,  and  she 
said,  '  It  iss  danger  that  I  am  seeing,'  and  my  heart 
stood  still  in  my  bosom  for  fear  that  it  wass  my  own 
man  Hamish. 

" '  No,'  and  she  looked  at  me,  '  not  yet,  and  not  to- 
day,' but  more  she  would  not  say  about  him.  '  Is  it  my 
son  Ronald  ?  '  my  sister  cried,  and  Ina  only  looked 
before  her.  '  It 's  a  sore  travail,  and  round  a  few  black 
tartans  I  see  many  men  in  grey,  pressing  them  hard ; 
ochone,  ochone.' 

" '  It  's  time  to  pray,'  I  said,  and  there  wass  a  man  in 


n6  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

the  clachan  that  wass  mighty  in  prayer,  and  we  gathered 
into  his  kitchen,  four  and  twenty  women  and  four  men, 
and  every  one  had  a  kinsman  in  the  field. 

"  It  iss  this  minute  that  I  hear  Dugald  crying  to  the 
Almighty,  '  Remember  our  lads,  and  be  their  help  in  the 
day  of  battle,  and  give  them  the  necks  of  their  enemies,' 
and  he  might  be  wrestling  for  half  an  hour,  when  Ina 
rose  from  her  knees  and  said,  '  The  prayer  is  answered, 
for  the  tartans  have  the  field,  and  I  see  blood  on* Ronald, 
but  it  is  not  his  own.' " 

"And  did  you  ever  hear —  " 

"Wait,  my  dear,  and  I  will  tell  you,  for  the  letter 
came  from  my  nephew,  and  this  is  what  he  wrote : 

" '  It  wass  three  to  one,  and  the  gloom  came  on  me, 
for  I  thought  that  I  would  never  see  Glenfeshie  again, 
nor  the  water  of  the  loch,  nor  the  deer  on  the  side  of  the 
hill.  Then  I  wass  suddenly  strengthened  with  all  might 
in  the  inner  man,  and  it  iss  five  Russians  that  I  hef 
killed  to  my  own  hands.' 

"  And  so  it  wass,  and  a  letter  came  from  his  captain, 
who  wass  of  Cluny's  blood,  and  it  will  be  read  in  church, 
and  a  fery  proud  woman  wass  my  sister." 

These  were  the  stories  that  Janet  told  to  her  minister 
in  the  days  before  the  Carnegies  came  home,  as  well  as 
afterwards,  and  so  she  prepared  him  to  be  an  easier  prey 
to  a  soldier's  daughter. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A   DAUGHTER   OF   DEBATE. 

HEY  met  under  the  arch  of 
the  gate,  and  Carmichael  re- 
turned  with  the  Carnegies, 
/  Kate  making  much  of  him 
and  insisting  that  he  should 
stay  to  luncheon. 

"  You  are  our  first  visitor, 
Mr.  Carmichael,  and  the 
General  says  that  we  need 
not  expect  more  than  six,  so 
we  mean  to  be  very  kind  to 
them.  Do  you  live  far  from 
here?" 

"  Quite  near  —  just  two 
miles  west.  I  happened  to 
be  passing  ;  in  fact,  I  'm  go- 
ing down  to  the  next  parish,  and  I  ...  I  thought  that 
I  would  like  to  call  and  .  .  .  and  bid  you  welcome ;  " 
for  Carmichael  had  not  yet  learned  the  art  of  conversa- 
tion, which  stands  mainly  in  touching  details  lightly  and 
avoiding  the  letter  I. 

"  It  is  very  cruel  of  you  to  be  so  honest  and  dispel  our 
flattering  illusions  "  —  Kate  marvelled  at  his  mendacity 
—  "  we  supposed  you  had  come  '  anes  errand  '  —  I  'm 
picking  up  Scotch  —  to  call  on  your  new  neighbours. 
Does  the  high  road  pass  the  Lodge?" 


n8  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Oh  no ;  the  road  is  eight  miles  further ;  but  the 
Drumtochty  people  take  the  near  way  through  the  woods  ; 
it 's  also  much  prettier.  I  hope  you  will  not  forbid  us, 
General?  two  people  a  week  is  all  the  traffic." 

"Forbid  them  —  not  I,"  said  Carnegie,  laughing.  "A 
man  is  not  born  and  bred  in  this  parish  without  learning 
some  sense.  It  would  be  a  right  of  way  case,  and  Drum- 
tochty would  follow  me  from  court  to  court,  and  would 
never  rest  till  they  had  gained  or  we  were  all  ruined. 

"  Has  it  ever  struck  you,  Mr.  Carmichael,  that  one  of 
the  differences  between  a  Highlander  and  a  Scot  is  that 
each  has  got  a  pet  enjoyment?  With  the  one  it 's  a  feud, 
and  with  the  other  it 's  a  lawsuit.  A  Scot  dearly  loves 
a  '  ganging  plea.' 

"  No,  no  ;  Tochty  woods  will  be  open  so  long  as  Kate 
and  I  have  anything  to  say  in  the  matter.  The  Glen 
and  our  people  have  not  had  the  same  politics,  but 
we  've  lived  at  peace,  as  neighbours  ought  to  do,  with 
never  a  lawsuit  even  to  give  a  fillip  to  life." 

"So  you  see,  Mr.  Carmichael,"  said  Kate,  "you  may 
come  and  go  at  all  times  through  our  territory ;  but  it 
would  be  bare  courtesy  to  call  at  the  Lodge  for  afternoon 
tea." 

"Or  tiffin,"  suggested  the  General;  "and  we  can 
always  offer  curry,  as  you  see.  My  daughter  has  a 
capital  recipe  she  wiled  out  of  an  old  Hindoo  rascal 
that  cooked  for  our  mess.  You  really  need  not 
take  it  on  that  account,"  as  Carmichael  was  do- 
ing his  best  in  much  misery ;  "  it  is  only  meant 
to  keep  old  Indians  in  fair  humour  —  not  to  be 
a  test  of  good  manners.  By  the  way,  Janet  has 
been  sounding  your  praises ;  how  have  you  won  her 
heart?" 


A    DAUGHTER   OF   DEBATE.  119 

"Oh,  very  easily  —  by  having  some  drops  of  High- 
land blood  in  my  veins ;  and  so  I  am  forgiven  all  my 
faults,  and  am  credited  with  all  sorts  of  excellences." 

"Then  the  Highlanders  are  as  clannish  as  ever,"  cried 
the  General.  "Scotland  has  changed  so  much  in  the 
last  half  century  that  the  Highlanders  might  have  become 
quite  unsentimental  and  matter-of-fact. 

"  Lowland  civilisation  only  crossed  the  Highland  line 
after  '45,  and  it  will  take  more  than  a  hundred  and 
thirty  years  to  recast  a  Celt.  Scottish  education  and 
theology  are  only  a  veneer  on  him,  and  below  he  has  all 
his  old  instincts. 

"  So  far  as  I  can  make  out,  a  Celt  will  rather  fish  than 
plough,  and  be  a  gamekeeper  than  a  workman  ;  but  if  he 
be  free  to  follow  his  own  way,  a  genuine  Highlander  would 
rather  be  a  soldier  than  anything  else  under  the  sun." 

"What  better  could  a  man  be?"  and  Kate's  eyes 
sparkled ;  "  they  must  envy  the  old  times  when  their 
fathers  raided  the  Lowlands  and  came  home  with  the 
booty.  It 's  a  pity  everybody  is  so  respectable  now, 
don't  you  think?" 

"  Certainly  the  police  are  very  meddlesome,"  and 
Carmichael  now  devoted  himself  to  Kate,  without  pre- 
tence of  including  the  General ;  "  but  the  spirit  is  not 
dead.  A  Celt  is  the  child  of  generations  of  cattle- 
stealers,  and  the  raiding  spirit  is  still  in, the  blood.  May 
I  offer  an  anecdote?  " 

"  Six,  if  you  have  got  so  many,  and  they  are  all  about 
Highlanders,"  and  Kate  leant  forward  and  nursed  her 
knee,  for  they  had  gone  into  the  library. 

"  Last  week  I  was  passing  the  cattle  market  in'  Edin- 
burgh, and  a  big  Highland  drover  stopped  me,  begging 
for  a  little  money. 


120  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  '  It  iss  from  Lochaber  I  hef  come  with  some  beasties, 
and  to-morrow  I  will  be  walking  back  all  the  way,  and  it 
iss  this  night  I  hef  no  bed.  I  wass  considering  that  the 
gardens  would  be  a  good  place  for  a  night,  but  they  are 
telling  me  that  the  police  will  be  disturbing  me.' 

"  He  looked  so  simple  and  honest  that  I  gave  him 
half-a-crown  and  said  that  I  was  half  a  Highlander.  I 
have  three  Gaelic  sentences,  and  I  reeled  them  off  with 
my  best  accent. 

" '  Got  forgive  me,'  he  said,  '  for  thinking  you  to  be  a 
Sassenach  body,  and  taking  your  money  from  you.  You 
are  a  fery  well-made  man,  and  here  iss  your  silver  piece, 
and  may  you  always  hef  one  in  your  pocket.' 

"  '  But  what  about  your  bed  ?  ' 

"  '  Tuts,  tuts,  that  will  be  all  right,  for  I  hef  maybe 
got  some  six  or  five  notes  of  my  own  that  were  profit 
on  the  beasties  ;  but  it  iss  a  pity  not  to  be  taking  any- 
thing that  iss  handy  when  a  body  happens  to  be  in  the 
south.'  " 

"Capital."  Kate  laughed  merrily,  and  her  too  rare 
laugh  I  used  to  think  the  gayest  I  ever  heard.  "  It  was 
the  only  opportunity  left  him  of  following  his  fathers. 
What  a  fine  business  it  must  have  been,  starting  from 
Braemar  one  afternoon,  a  dozen  men  well  armed,  and 
getting  down  to  Strathmore  in  the  morning ;  then  lying 
hid  in  some  wood  all  day,  and  collecting  a  herd  of  fat 
cattle  in  the  evening,  and  driving  them  up  Glen  Shee, 
not  knowing  when  there  might  be  a  fight." 

"  Hard  lines  on  the  Scottish  farmers,  Kit,  who  might 
be  very  decent  fellows,  to  lose  their  cattle  or  get  a  cut 
from  a  broadsword." 

"  Oh,  they  had  plenty  left ;  and  seriously,  dad,  without 
joking,  you  know,  what  better  could  a  Presbyterian  Low- 


"HERE   ISS   YOUR   SILVER   PIECE. 


122  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

lander  do  than  raise  good  beef  for  Highland  gentlemen  ? 
Mr.  Carmichael,  I  beg  pardon;  you  seem  so  good  a 
Celt,  that  I  forgot  you  were  not  of  our  faith." 

"  We  are  not  Catholics,"  the  General  explained, 
gravely,  "  although  many  of  our  blood  have  been,  and 
my  daughter  was  educated  in  a  convent.  We  belong  to 
the  Episcopal  Church  of  Scotland,  and  will  go  into 
Muirtown  at  a  time,  but  mostly  we  shall  attend  the  kirk 
of  my  old  friend  Or.  Davidson.  Every  man  is  entitled 
to  his  faith,  and  Miss  Carnegie  rather  .  . ..." 

"  Forgot  herself."  Kate  came  to  her  father's  relief. 
"  She  often  does  ;  but  one  thing  Miss  Carnegie  remem- 
bers, and  that  is  that  General  Carnegie  likes  his  cheroot 
after  tiffin.  Do  you  smoke,  Mr.  Carmichael?  Oh,  I 
am  allowed  to  stay,  if  you  don't  object,  and  have  for- 
given my  rudeness." 

"  You  make  too  much  of  a  word,  Miss  Carnegie."  Car- 
michael was  not  a  man  to  take  offence  till  his  pride  was 
roused.  "  Very  likely  my  drover  was  a  true  blue  Presby- 
terian, and  his  minister  as  genuine  a  cateran  as  himself. 

"  Years  ago  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  an  old  High- 
land minister  called  MacTavish,  and  he  sometimes  stays 
with  me  on  his  way  north  in  the  spring.  For  thirty 
years  he  has  started  at  the  first  sign  of  snow,  and  spent 
winter  spoiling  the  good  people  of  the  south.  Some 
years  he  has  gone  home  with  three  hundred  pounds." 

"But  how  does  he  get  the  money?"  inquired  the 
General,  "  and  what  does  he  use  it  for?  " 

"  He  told  me  the  history  of  his  campaigns  when  he 
passed  in  March,  and  it  might  interest  you  ;  it 's  our 
modern  raid,  and  although  it 's  not  so  picturesque  as  a 
foray  of  the  Macphersons,  yet  it  has  points,  and  shows 
the  old  spirit  lives. 


A   DAUGHTER   OF   DEBATE.  123 

"  '  She  wass  a  goot  woman,  Janet  Cameron,  oh  yes,  Mr. 
John,  a  fery  exercised  woman,  and  when  she  wass  dying 
she  will  be  saying  peautiful  things,  and  one  day  she  will 
be  speaking  of  a  little  field  she  had  beside  the  church. 

" '  "  What  do  you  think  I  should  be  doing  with  that 
piece  of  ground,"  she  will  be  saying,  "  for  the  end  iss 
not  far  off,  and  it  iss  not  earth  I  can  be  taking  with  me, 
oh  no,  nor  co\vs." 

"  '  "No,  Janet,"  I  said,  "  but  it  iss  a  nice  field,  and  lies 
to  the  sun.  It  might  be  doing  good  after  you  are  gone, 
if  it  wass  not  wasted  on  your  mother's  cousins  twice 
removed  in  Inverness,  who  will  be  drinking  every  drop 
of  it,  and  maybe  going  to  the  Moderate  Kirk." 

"  '  It  wass  not  for  two  months  or  maybe  six  weeks  she 
died,  and  I  will  be  visiting  her  every  second  day.  Her 
experiences  were  fery  good,  and  I  hef  told  them  at 
sacraments  in  the  north.  The  people  in  the  south  are  free 
with  their  money,  but  it  iss  not  the  best  of  my  stories  that 
I  can  give  them  ;  they  are  too  rich  for  their  stomachs. 

"  '  Janet  will  often  be  saying  to  me,  "  Mister  Dugald, 
it  iss  a  thankful  woman  that  I  ought  to  be,  for  though  I 
lost  my  man  in  the  big  storm  and  two  sons  in  the  war,  I 
hef  had  mercies,  oh  yes.  There  wass  the  Almighty  and 
my  cow,  and  between  them  I  hef  not  wanted,  oh  no  : 
they  just  did." 

"  '  "  Janet,  you  will  be  forgetting  your  field  that  iss  lying 
next  the  manse,  and  the  people  will  be  thinking  that  it  iss 
a  glebe  ;  but  I  am  telling  them  that  it  iss  Janet  Cameron's, 
who  iss  a  fery  experienced  woman,  and  hass  nefer  seen 
the  inside  of  a  Moderate  Kirk  since  the  Disruption." 

"  '  Maybe  you  will  be  astonished,  Mister  John,  but  when 
Janet's  will  will  be  read  that  piece  of  ground  wass  left 
to  the  Free  Kirk,  which  wass  fery  kind  and  mindful  of 


124  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Janet,  and  I  made  a  sermon  about  her  from  the  text  of 
the  "elect  lady." 

"  '  It  wass  a  good  field,  but  it  needed  a  dyke  and  some 
drains,  and  it  wass  not  our  people  that  had  the  money. 
So  I  made  another  sermon  on  the  text,  "  The  boar  out 
of  the  wood  doth  waste  it,  and  the  wild  beast  of  the 
field  doth  devour  it,"  and  went  down  to  the  south.  It 
wass  not  a  dyke  and  some  drains,  but  enough  to  build  a 
byre  and  a  stable  I  came  back  with.  That  wass  in  '55, 
and  before  '60  there  will  be  a  new  manse  with  twelve 
rooms  that  iss  good  for  letting  to  the  English  people. 
But  k  wass  ten  years  the  church  needed,  and  a  year  for 
the  porch  to  keep  it  warm,  for  I  am  not  liking  stoves, 
and  will  not  hef  one  in  Crianshalloch. 

"  '  It  iss  wonderful  how  much  money  the  bodies  hef  in 
Glasgow,  and  it  iss  good  for  them  to  be  hearing  sound 
doctrine  at  a  time.  There  will  be  no  Arminianism 
when  I  am  preaching,  and  no  joking ;  but  maybe  there 
will  be  some  parables,  oh  yes,  about  the  sheep  coming  in 
at  the  manse  door  for  want  of  a  fence,  and  the  snow 
lying  in  the  pulpit.' 

"There  is  a  cateran  for  you,  and,  mind  you,  a  good 
fellow  too.  It 's  not  greed  sends  him  out,  but  sheer  love 
of  spoil.  Would  you  like  to  see  MacTavish  next  time  he 
passes  up  with  the  cattle?  "  for  Carmichael  was  embold- 
ened by  the  reception  of  his  sketch. 

"  Nothing  we  should  like  better,  for  the  General  and  I 
want  to  know  all  about  Scotland  ;  but  don't  you  think 
that  those  ministers  have  injured  the  Highlanders? 
Janet,  you  know,  has  such  gloomy  ideas  about  religion." 

"  There  is  no  doubt,  Miss  Carnegie,  that  a  load  of 
Saxon  theology  has  been  landed  on  the  Celt,  and  it  has 
disfigured  his  religion.  Sometimes  I  have  felt  that  the 


A   DAUGHTER   OF   DEBATE.  125 

Catholic  of  the  west  is  a  truer  type  of  northern  faith  than 
the  Presbyterian  of  Ross-shire." 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  Miss  Car- 
negie, "  for  we  had  one  or  two  west  Catholics  in  the  old 
regiment,  and  their  superstitions  were  lovely.  You  re- 
member, dad,  the  Maclvers." 

"That  was  all  well  enough,  Kit,  but  none  of  them 
could  get  the  length  of  corporal ;  they  were  fearfully  ig- 
norant, and  were  reported  at  intervals  for  not  keeping 
their  accoutrements  clean." 

"  That  only  showed  how  religious  they  were,  did  n't  it, 
Mr.  Carmichael?  Hadn't  the  early  Christians  a  rooted 
objection  to  the  bath?  I  remember  our  Padre  saying 
that  in  a  lecture." 

"  There  are  a  good  many  modern  Christians  of  the 
same  mind,  Miss  Carnegie,  and  I  don't  think  our  poor 
Highlanders  are  worse  than  Lowlanders;  but  Catholic 
or  Protestant,  they  are  all  subject  to  the  gloom.  I  can- 
not give  the  Gaelic  word. 

"  What  is  that  ?  Oh,  a  southerner  would  call  it  de- 
pression, and  assign  it  to  the  liver,  for  he  traces  all  trou- 
ble to  that  source.  But  there  is  no  word  for  this  mood 
in  English,  because  it  is  not  an  English  experience.  My 
mother  fell  under  it  at  times,  and  I  saw  the  effect." 

"  Tell  us,  please,  if  all  this  description  does  not  weary 
you?  "  and  Kate  shone  on  Carmichael,  who  would  have 
talked  on  the  Council  of  Nice  or  the  rotation  of  crops 
to  prolong  his  privileges. 

"  It  comes  on  quite  suddenly,  and  is  quite  a  spiritual 
matter  —  a  cloud  which  descends  and  envelops  the  soul. 
While  it  lasts  a  Highlander  will  not  laugh  nor  sing ;  he 
will  hardly  speak,  and  he  loses  all  hope  about  every- 
thing. One  of  our  men  has  the  gloom  at  a  time,  and 


i26  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

then  he  believes  that  he  is  ...  damned.  I  am  speak- 
ing theologically." 

"  The  regiment  must  have  been  fond  of  theology,  dad 
Yes,  we  understand." 

"  Once  he  went  out  to  the  hill,  and  lay  all  night 
wrestling  and  agonising  to  be  sure  whether  there  was  a 
God.  You  know  he  's  just  a  small  farmer,  and  it  seems 
to  me  splendid  that  such  a  man  should  give  himself  to 
the  big  problems  of  the  universe.  Do  you  know,"  and 
Carmichael  turned  to  the  General,  who  was  smoking  in 
great  peace,  "  I  believe  that  is  the  reason  the  Highland- 
ers are  such  good  righting  men.  They  fear  God,  and 
they  don't  fear  any  other  person." 

"I  '11  vouch  for  one  thing,"  said  the  veteran  with  em- 
phasis ;  "  our  men  put  off  the  gloom,  or  whatever  you 
call  it,  when  they  smelt  powder;  I  never  saw  a  panic 
in  a  Highland  regiment  in  more  than  forty  years' 
soldiering." 

"  What 's  the  reason  of  the  gloom?  I  believe  that  I 
have  a  touch  of  it  myself  at  times  —  don't  stare  at  me, 
dad,  it 's  rude  — just  a  thin  mist,  you  know,  but  distinctly 
not  indigestion.  Is  it  a  matter  of  race?  " 

"  Of  course,  but  that's  no  explanation."  Carmichael 
had  fallen  into  his  debating  society  style.  "  I  mean  one 
has  to  go  further  back ;  all  our  habits  are  shaped  by 
environment." 

"  One  moment,  please.  I  have  always  wanted  to  ask 
some  clever  person  what  environment  meant.  I  asked 
Colonel  MacLeod  once,  dad,  and  he  said  it  was  out  of 
the  new  book  on  tactics,  and  he  was  thankful  he  had  re- 
tired. Now  Mr.  Carmichael  will  make  it  plain,"  and 
Kate  was  very  demure. 

"  It  is  rather  stupid  to  iiie  the  word  so  much  as  peo- 


A    DAUGHTER   OF    DEBATE.  127 

pie  do  now,"  and  Carmichael  glanced  dubiously  at 
Kate  ;  "  scientific  men  use  it  for  circumstances." 

"  Is  that  all?  then  do  pray  say  environment.  Such  a 
word  introduces  one  into  good  society,  and  gives  one 
the  feeling  of  being  well  dressed ;  now  about  a  High- 
lander's environment,  is  it  his  kilt  you  are  thinking  of,  or 
his  house,  or  what?  " 

"  His  country  "  —  and  CarmichaePs  tone  had  a  slight 
note  of  resentment,  as  of  one  ruffled  by  this  frivolity  — 
"  with  its  sea  lochs,  and  glens,  and  mists.  Any  one  who 
has  been  bred  and  reared  at  the  foot  of  one  of  our 
mountains  will  have  a  different  nature  and  religion  from 
one  living  in  Kent  or  Italy.  He  has  a  sense  of  rever- 
ence, and  surely  that  is  a  good  thing." 

"  Nothing  more  needed  nowadays,"  the  General  broke 
in  with  much  spirit ;  "  it  seems  to  me  that  people  nowa- 
days respect  nobody,  neither  the  Queen  nor  Almighty 
God.  As  for  that  man  Brimstone,  he  will  never  cease 
till  he  has  ruined  the  Empire.  You  need  n't  look  at  me, 
Kate,  for  Mr.  .  .  .  Carmichael  must  know  this  as  well 
as  any  other  sensible  man. 

"  Why,  sir,"  and  now  the  General  was  on  his  feet,  "I 
was  told  on  good  authority  at  the  club  last  week  by  a 
newspaper  man  —  a  monstrously  clever  man  —  that  Mr. 
Brimstone,  when  he  is  going  down  to  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  disestablish  the  Church,  or  the  army,  or  some- 
thing, will  call  in  at  a  shop  and  order  two  hundred  silk 
hats  to  be  sent  to  his  house.  What  do  you  call  that,  sir?  " 

"  I  should  call  it  a  deliberate  —  " 

"Jen  if  esprit.  Of  course  it  is,  dad,"  and  Kate  threw 
an  appealing  glance  to  Carmichael,  who  had  sprung  to 
his  feet  and  was  standing  stiffly  behind  his  chair,  for  he 
was  a  fierce  Radical. 


'Ill 


"  1   SHOULD   CALL   IT   A   DELIBERATE  — 


A   DAUGHTER   OF   DEBATE.  129 

"  Perhaps  it  was,  lassie  —  those  war  correspondents 
used  to  be  sad  rascals — and,  at  any  rate,  politics  are  bad 
taste.  Another  cheroot,  Mr.  Carmichael?  Oh,  non- 
sense ;  you  must  tell  my  daughter  more  about  your  High- 
landers. They  are  a  loyal  set,  at  any  rate,  and  we  all 
admire  that." 

"Yes,  they  are,"  and  Carmichael  unbent  again, 
"  and  will  stick  by  their  side  whether  it  be  right  or 
wrong.  They  're  something  like  a  woman  in  their 
disposition." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Kate,  who  did  not  think  Carmichael 
had  responded  very  courteously  to  her  lead,  "  that  is 
very  interesting.  They  are,  you  mean,  full  of  prejudices 
and  notions." 

"  If  a  Highlander  takes  you  into  his  friendship,  you 
may  say  or  do  what  you  like,  he  will  stand  by  you,  and 
although  his  views  are  as  different  from  yours  as  black 
from  white,  will  swear  he  agrees  with  every  one.  If  he  's 
not  your  friend,  he  can  see  no  good  in  anything  you  do, 
although  you  be  on  his  own  side." 

"  In  fact,  he  has  very  little  judgment  and  no  sense  of 
justice ;  and  I  think  you  said,"  Kate  went  on  sweetly, 
"  his  nature  reminded  you  of  a  woman's?  " 

"You're  sure  that  you  like  cheroots?"  for  the  Gen- 
eral did  not  wish  this  lad,  Radical  though  he  was,  sac- 
rificed on  his  first  visit ;  "  some  men  are  afraid  of  the 
opium  in  them." 

"Please  do  not  interrupt  Mr.  Carmichael  when  he  is 
making  a  capital  comparison,"  and  Kate  held  him  to  the 
point. 

"  What  I  intend  is  really  a  compliment,"  went  on 
Carmichael,  "and  shows  the  superior  fineness  and  sensi- 
tiveness of  a  woman's  mind." 

9 


130  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Kate  indicated  that  she  was  sure  that  was  his  meaning, 
but  waited  for  details. 

"  You  see,"  with  the  spirit  of  one  still  fresh  to  the 
pulpit,  "  a  man  is  slower,  and  goes  by  evidence ;  a 
woman  is  quicker,  and  goes  by  her  instincts." 

"  Like  the  lower  animals,"  suggested  Kate,  sweetly, 
"by  scent,  perhaps.  Well?  " 

"You  are  twisting  my  words,  Miss  Carnegie."  Car- 
michael  did  not  like  being  bantered  by  this  self-possessed 
young  woman.  "  Let  me  put  it  this  way.  Would  a  jury 
of  women  be  as  impartial  as  a  jury  of  men?  Why,  a  bad- 
looking  man  would  have  no  chance,  for  they  would  con- 
demn him  at  once,  not  for  what  he  did,  but  for  what 
they  imagined  he  was." 

"Which  would  save  a  lot  of  time  and  rid  society  of 
some  precious  scoundrels,"  with  vivid  recollections  of 
her  own  efforts  in  this  direction.  "  Then  you  grant  that 
women  have  some  intelligence,  although  no  sense  of  jus- 
tice, which  is  a  want?  " 

"  Far  brighter  than  men,"  said  Carmichael,  eagerly ; 
"just  consider  the  difference  between  a  man's  and  a 
woman's  speech.  A  man  arranges  and  argues  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  and  is  the  slave  of  connection.  He  will 
labour  every  idea  to  exhaustion  before  he  allows  it  to 
escape,  and  then  will  give  a  solemn  cough  by  way  of 
punctuating  with  a  full  stop,  before  he  goes  on  to  his 
next  point.  Of  course  the  audience  look  at  their 
watches  and  make  for  the  door." 

"What  would  a  woman  do?"  Kate  inquired  with 
much  interest. 

"  A  lady  was  speaking  lately  at  Muirtown  for  an 
orphanage  at  Ballyskiddle,  and  described  how  Patsy  was 
rescued  from  starvation,  and  greatly  affected  us.  '  Patsy 


A    DAUGHTER   OF    DEBATE.  131 

will  never  want  bread  again,'  she   concluded,  and  two 
bailies  wept  aloud. 

"  Then  she  went  on,  and  it  seemed  to  me  a  stroke  of 
genius,  '  Speaking  about  Patsy,  has  any  lady  present  a 
black  dress  suitable  for  a  widow  woman?'  Before  we 
knew  that  we  had  left  Patsy,  the  people  were  in  a 
widow's  home,  and  the  bailies  were  again  overcome.  I 
mention  them  because  it  is  supposed  that  a  bailie  is  the 
most  important  human  being  in  Scotland,  and  he  feels  it 
his  duty  not  to  yield  to  emotion. 

"  No,  a  woman  speaker  never  sacrifices  her  capital ; 
she  carries  it  with  her  from  England  to  France  in  her 
speech,  and  recognises  no  channel  passage.  In  fact," 
and  Carmichael  plunged  into  new  imagery,  "  a  man's 
progress  is  after  the  manner  of  a  mole,  while  a  woman 
flits  from  branch  to  branch  like  a  —  " 

"Squirrel  —  I  know,"  came  in  Kate,  getting  tired. 

"Bird,  I  meant.  Why  do  you  say  squirrel?"  and 
Carmichael  looked  suspiciously  at  Kate. 

"  Because  it 's  such  a  careless,  senseless,  irresponsible 
little  beast.  Have  you  met  many  women,  Mr.  Car- 
michael? Really  they  are  not  all  fools,  as  you  have 
been  trying  to  suggest  for  the  last  ten  minutes." 

"  Highlanders  are  a  safer  subject  of  conversation  than 
women,"  said  the  General,  good-naturedly,  as  he  bade 
Carmichael  good-bye.  "And  you  must  tell  us  more 
about  them  next  time  you  call,  which  I  hope  will  be 
soon." 

Carmichael  halted  twice  on  his  way  through  the 
woods ;  once  he  stamped  his  foot  and  looked  like  a 
man  whose  pride  had  been  ruffled ;  the  other  time  he 
smiled  to  himself  as  one  who  was  thinking  of  a  future 
pleasure. 


1 32  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

It  was  dusk  as  he  crossed  Lynedoch  Bridge,  and  he 
looked  down  upon  the  pool  below  where  the  trout  were 
leaping.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and  then  he  started  off 
at  high  speed  for  Kilbogie  Manse.  "  Please  God  if  1 
am  worthy,"  he  was  saying  to  himself;  "but  I  fear  she 
is  too  high  above  me  every  way." 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    SUPRA-LAPSARIAN. 


,.  EREMIAH  SAUNDERSON 
had  remained  in  the  low  es- 
tate of  a  "probationer"  for 
twelve  years  after  he  left  the 
Divinity  Hall,  where  he  was  re- 
ported so  great  a  scholar  that 
the  Professor  of  Apologetics 
spoke  to  him  deprecatingly, 
and  the  Professor  of  Dogmatics 
openly  consulted  him  on  obscure 
writers.  He  had  wooed  twenty- 
three  congregations  in  vain,  from 
churches  in  the  black  country 
where  the  colliers  rose  in  squares  of  twenty 
and  went  out  without  ceremony,  to  suburban 
places  of  worship  where  the  beadle,  after  due  considera- 
tion of  the  sermon,  would  take  up  the  afternoon  notices 
and  ask  that  they  be  read  at  once  for  purposes  of  utility, 
which  that  unflinching  functionary  stated  to  the  minister 
with  accuracy  and  much  faithfulness.  Vacant  congrega- 
tions desiring  a  list  of  candidates  made  one  exception, 
and  prayed  that  Jeremiah  should  not  be  let  loose  upon 
them,  till  at  last  it  came  home  to  the  unfortunate  scholar 
himself  that  he  was  an  offence  and  a  byeword.  He  began 


i34  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

to  dread  the  ordeal  of  giving  his  name,  and,  as  is  still 
cold,  declared  to  a  household,  living  in  the  fat  wheat 
lands  and  without  any  imagination,  that  he  was  called 
Magor  Missabib.  When  a  stranger  makes  a  statement 
of  this  kind  with  a  sad  seriousness,  no  one  judges  it 
expedient  to  offer  any  remark,  but  it  was  skilfully  ar- 
ranged that  Missabib's  door  should  be  locked  from  the 
outside,  and  one  member  of  the  household  sat  up  all 
night.  The  sermon  next  day  did  not  tend  to  confidence 
—  having  seven  quotations  in  unknown  tongues  —  and 
the  attitude  of  the  congregation  was  one  of  alert  vigil- 
ance ;  but  no  one  gave  any  outward  sign  of  uneasiness, 
and  six  able-bodied  men  collected  in  a  pew  below  the 
pulpit  knew  their  duty  in  an  emergency. 

Saunderson's  election  to  the  Free  Church  of  Kilbogie 
was  therefore  an  event  in  the  ecclesiastical  world,  and  a 
consistent  tradition  in  the  parish  explained  its  inwardness 
on  certain  grounds,  complimentary  both  to  the  judgment 
of  Kilbogie  and  the  gifts  of  Mr.  Saunderson.  On  Satur- 
day evening  he  was  removed  from  the  train  by  the 
merest  accident,  and  left  the  railway  station  in  such  a 
maze  of  meditation  that  he  ignored  the  road  to  Kilbogie 
altogether,  although  its  sign  post  was  staring  him  in  the 
face,  and  continued  his  way  to  Dramtochty.  It  was  half- 
past  nine  when  Jamie  Soutar  met  him  on  the  high  road 
through  our  Glen,  still  travelling  steadily  west,  and  being 
arrested  by  his  appearance,  beguiled  him  into  conversa- 
tion, till  he  elicited  that  Saunderson  was  minded  to  reach 
Kilbogie.  For  an  hour  did  the  wanderer  rest  in  Jamie's 
kitchen,  during  which  he  put  Jamie's  ecclesiastical  history 
into  a  state  of  thorough  repair  —  making  seven  distinct 
parallels  between  the  errors  that  had  afflicted  the  Scot- 
tish Church  and  the  early  heretical  sects  —  and  then 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  135 

Jamie  gave  him  in  charge  of  a  ploughman  who  was  court- 
ing in  Kilbogie  and  was  not  averse  to  a  journey  that 
seemed  to  illustrate  the  double  meaning  of  charity.  Jere- 
miah was  handed  over  to  his  anxious  hosts  at  a  quarter 
to  one  in  the  morning,  covered  with  mud,  somewhat 
fatigued,  but  in  great  peace  of  soul,  having  settled  the 
place  of  election  in  the  prophecy  of  Habakkuk  as  he 
came  down  with  his  silent  companion  through  Tochty 
woods. 

Nor  was  that  all  he  had  done.  When  they  came  out 
from  the  shadow  and  struck  into  the  parish  of  Kilbogie 
—  whose  fields,  now  yellow  unto  harvest,  shone  in  the 
moonlight — his  guide  broke  silence  and  enlarged  on  a 
plague  of  field-mice  which  had  quite  suddenly  appeared 
and  had  sadly  devastated  the  grain  of  Kilbogie.  Saun- 
derson  awoke  from  study  and  became  exceedingly  curi- 
ous, first  of  all  demanding  a  particular  account  of  the 
coming  of  the  mice,  their  multitude,  their  habits,  and 
their  determination.  Then  he  asked  many  questions 
about  the  moral  conduct  and  godliness  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Kilbogie,  which  his  companion,  as  a  native  of  Urum- 
tochty,  painted  in  gloomy  colours,  although  indicating 
that  even  in  Kilbogie  there  was  a  remnant.  Next  morn- 
ing the  minister  rose  at  daybreak,  and  was  found  wander- 
ing through  the  fields  in  such  a  state  of  excitement  that 
he  could  hardly  be  induced  to  look  at  breakfast.  When 
the  "books"  were  placed  before  him,  he  turned  promptly 
to  the  ten  plagues  of  Egypt,  which  he  expounded  in 
order  as  preliminary  to  a  full  treatment  of  the  visitations 
of  Providence. 

"  He  cowes  (beats)  a'  ye  ever  saw  or  heard,"  the 
farmer  of  Mains  explained  to  the  elders  at  the  gate. 
"  He  gaed  tae  bed  at  half  twa  and  wes  oot  in  the  fields 


136  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

by  four,  an'  a  'm  dootin"  he  never  saw  his  bed.     He 's 
lifted  abune  the  body  a'thegither,  an'  can  hardly  keep 
himsel'  awa'  frae  the  Hebrew  at  his  breakfast.     Ye  '11 
get  a  sermon  the  day,  or  ma  name  is  no  Peter  Pitillo." 
Mains  also  declared  his  conviction  that  the  invasion  of 
mice  would  be  dealt  with  after  a  Scriptural  and  satisfying 
fashion.     The  people  went  in  full  of  expectation,  and  to 
this  day  old  people  recall  Jeremiah  Saunderson's   trial 
sermon  with  lively  admiration.     Experienced  critics  were 
suspicious  of  candidates  who  read  lengthy  chapters  from 
both  Testaments  and  prayed  at  length  for  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  for  it  was  justly  held  that  no  man  would  take 
refuge   in  such  obvious  devices  for  filling  up  the  time 
unless  he  was  short  of  sermon  material.     One  unfortu- 
nate, indeed,  ruined  his  chances  at  once  by  a  long  peti- 
tion for  those  in  danger  on  the  sea  —  availing  himself 
with  some  eloquence  of  the  sympathetic  imagery  of  the 
loyth  Psalm  —  for  this  effort  was  regarded  as  not  only 
the  most  barefaced  padding,  but  also  as  evidence  of  an 
almost  incredible  blindness  to  circumstances.     "  Did  he 
think  Kilbogie  wes  a  fishing  village?"   Mains  inquired 
of  the  elders  afterwards,  with  pointed  sarcasm.    Kilbogie 
was  not  indifferent  to  a  well-ordered  prayer  —  although 
its  palate  was  coarser  in  the  appreciation  of  felicitous 
terms   and   allusions   than   that   of  Drumtochty  —  and 
would  have  been  scandalised  if  the  Queen  had  been 
omitted ;  but  it  was  by  the  sermon  the  young  man  must 
stand  or  fall,  and  Kilbogie  despised  a  man  who  post- 
poned the  ordeal.' 

Saunderson  gave  double  pledges  of  capacity  and  ful- 
ness before  he  opened  his  mouth  in  the  sermon,  for  he 
read  no  Scripture  at  all  that  day,  and  had  only  one 
prayer,  which  was  mainly  a  statement  of  the  Divine 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  137 

Decrees  and  a  careful  confession  of  the  sins  of  Kilbogie  ; 
and  then,  having  given  out  his  text  from  the  prophecy  of 
Joel,  he  reverently  closed  the  Bible  and  placed  it  on  the 
seat  behind  him.  His  own  reason  for  this  proceeding 
was  a  desire  for  absolute  security  in  enforcing  his  subject, 
and  a  painful  remembrance  of  the  disturbance  in  a  south 
country  church  when  he  landed  a  Bible  —  with  clasps  — 
on  the  head  of  the  precentor  in  the  heat  of  a  discourse 
defending  the  rejection  of  Esau.  Our  best  and  sim- 
plest actions  —  and  Jeremiah  was  as  simple  as  a  babe  — 
can  be  misconstrued,  and  the  only  dissentient  from  Saun- 
derson's  election  insisted  that  the  Bible  had  been  depos- 
ited on  the  floor,  and  asserted  that  the  object  of  this 
profanity  was  to  give  the  preacher  a  higher  standing  in 
the  pulpit.  This  malignant  reading  of  circumstances 
might  have  wrought  mischief  —  for  Saunderson's  gaunt 
figure  did  seem  to  grow  in  the  pulpit  —  had  it  not  been 
for  the  bold  line  of  defence  taken  up  by  Mains. 

"  Gin  he  wanted  tae  stand  high,  wes  it  no  tae  preach 
the  word?  an'  gin  he  wanted  a  soond  foundation  for  his 
feet,  what  better  could  he  get  than  the  twa  Testaments? 
Answer  me  that." 

It  was  seen  at  once  that  no  one  could  answer  that, 
and  the  captious  objector  never  quite  recovered  his  posi- 
tion in  the  parish,  while  it  is  not  the  least  of  Kilbogie's 
boasting,  in  which  the  Auld  Kirk  will  even  join  against 
Drumtochty,  that  they  have  a  minister  who  not  only  does 
not  read  his  sermons  and  does  not  need  to  quote  his 
texts,  but  carries  the  whole  book  in  at  least  three  lan- 
guages in  his  head,  and  once,  as  a  proof  thereof,  preached 
with  it  below  his  feet. 

Much-  was  to  be  looked  for  from  such  a  man,  but  even 
Mains,  whetted  by  intercourse  with  Saunderson,  was 


138  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

astonished  at  the  sermon.  It  was  a  happy  beginning  to 
draw  a  parallel  between  the  locusts  of  Joel  and  the  mice 
of  Kilbogie,  and  gave  the  preacher  an  opportunity  of 
describing  the  appearance,  habits,  and  destruction  of  the 
locusts,  which  he  did  solely  from  Holy  Scripture,  trans- 
lating various  passages  afresh  and  combining  lights  with 
marvellous  ingenuity.  This  brief  preface  of  half  an  hour, 
which  was  merely  a  stimulant  for  the  Kilbogie  appetite, 
led  up  to  a  thorough  examination  of  physical  judgments, 
during  which  both  Bible  and  Church  history  were  laid 
under  liberal  contribution.  At  this  point  the  minister 
halted,  and  complimented  the  congregation  on  the  atten- 
tion they  had  given  to  the  facts  of  the  case,  which  were 
his  first  head,  and  suggested  that  before  approaching  the 
doctrine  of  visitations  they  might  refresh  themselves  with 
a  Psalm.  The  congregation  were  visibly  impressed,  and 
many  made  up  their  minds  while  singing  : 

"  That  man  hath  perfect  blessedness  ;  " 

and  while  others  thought  it  due  to  themselves  to  suspend 
judgment  till  they  had  tasted  the  doctrine,  they  afterwards 
confessed  their  confidence.  It  goes  without  saying  that 
he  was  immediately  beyond  the  reach  of  the  ordinary 
people  on  the  second  head,  and  even  veterans  in  theol- 
ogy panted  after  him  in  vain,  so  that  one  of  the  elders, 
nodding  assent  to  an  exposure  of  the  Manichae.m  heresy, 
suddenly  blushed  as  one  who  had  played  the  hypocrite. 
Some  professed  to  have  noticed  a  doctrine  that  had  not 
been  touched  upon,  but  they  never  could  give  it  a  name, 
and  it  excited  just  admiration  that  a  preacher,  starting 
from  a  plague  of  mice,  should  have  made  a  way  by  strictly 
scientific  methods  into  the  secret  places  of  theology. 
Saunclerson  allowed  his  hearers  a  brief  rest  after  the 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  139 

second  head,  and  cheered  them  with  the  assurance  that 
what  was  still  before  them  would  be  easy  to  follow.  It 
was  the  application  of  all  that  had  gone  before  to  the 
life  of  Kilbogie,  and  the  preacher  proceeded  to  convict 
the  parish  under  each  of  the  ten  commandments — with 
the  plague  of  mice  ever  in  reserve  to  silence  excuses  —  • 
till  the  delighted  congregation  could  have  risen  in  a 
body  and  taken  Saunderson  by  the  hand  for  his  fearless- 
ness and  faithfulness.  Perhaps  the  extent  and  thorough- 
ness of  this  monumental  sermon  can  be  best  estimated 
by  the  fact  that  Claypots,  father  of  the  present  tenant, 
who  always  timed  his  rest  to  fifty  minutes  exactly,  thus 
overseeing  both  the  introduction  and  application  of  the 
sermon,  had  a  double  portion,  and  even  a  series  of  sup- 
plementary dozes,  till  at  last  he  sat  upright  through  sheer 
satiety.  It  may  also  be  offered  as  evidence  that  the 
reserve  of  peppermint  held  by  mothers  for  their  bairns 
was  pooled,  doles  being  furtively  passed  across  pews  to 
conspicuously  needy  families,  and  yet  the  last  had  gone 
before  Saunderson  finished. 

Mains  reported  to  the  congregational  meeting  that  the 
minister  had  been  quiet  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  but  had 
offered  to  say  something  about  Habakkuk  to  any  evening 
gathering,  and  had  cleared  up  at  family  worship  some 
obscure  points  in  the  morning  discourse.  He  also 
informed  the  neighbours  that  he  had  driven  his  guest  all 
the  way  to  Muirtown,  and  put  him  in  an  Edinburgh  car- 
riage with  his  own  hands,  since  it  had  emerged  that 
Saunderson,  through  absence  of  mind,  had  -made  his 
down  journey  by  the  triangular  route  of  Dundee.  It 
was  quite  impossible  for  Kilbogie  to  conceal  their  pride 
in  electing  such  a  miracle  of  learning,  and  their  bearing 
in  Muirtown  was  distinctly  changed  ;  but  indeed  they 


1 40  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

did  not  boast  vainly  about  Jeremiah  Saunderson,  for  his 
career  was  throughout  on  the  level  of  that  monumental 
sermon.  When  the  Presbytery  in  the  gaiety  of  their 
heart  examined  Saunderson  to  ascertain  whether  he  was 
fully  equipped  for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  he  professed 
the  whole  Old  Testament  in  Hebrew,  and  MacWheep  of 
Pitscowrie,  who  always  asked  the  candidate  to  read  the 
twenty-third  Psalm,  was  beguiled  by  Jeremiah  into  the 
Book  of  Job,  and  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  asking 
questions  by  indicating  verbs  with  his  finger.  His  Greek 
examination  led  to  an  argument  between  Jeremiah  and 
Dr.  Dowbiggin  on  the  use  of  the  aorist,  from  which  the 
minister-elect  of  Kil bogie  came  out  an  easy  first;  and 
his  sermons  were  heard  to  within  measurable  distance 
of  the  second  head  by  an  exact  quorum  of  the  exhausted 
court,  who  were  kept  by  the  clerk  sitting  at  the  door, 
and  preventing  MacWheep  escaping.  His  position  in 
the  court  was  assured  from  the  beginning,  and  fulfilled 
the  function  of  an  Encyclopaedia  with  occasional  amaz- 
ing results,  as  when  information  was  asked  about  some 
Eastern  sect  for  whose  necessities  the  Presbytery  were 
asked  to  collect,  and  to  whose  warm  piety  affecting 
allusion  was  made,  and  Jeremiah  showed  clearly,  with 
the  reporters  present,  that  the  Cappadocians  were  guilty 
of  a  heresy  beside  which  Morisonianism  was  an  un- 
sullied whiteness.  His  work  as  examiner-in-general  for 
the  court  was  a  merciful  failure,  and  encouraged  the 
students  of  the  district  to  return  to  their  district  court, 
who  on  the  rumour  of  him  had  transferred  themselves 
in  a  body  to  a  Highland  Presbytery,  where  the  standard 
question  in  Philosophy  used  to  be,  "  How  many  horns 
has  a  dilemma,  and  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other." 
No  man  knew  what  the  minister  of  Kilbogie  might  not 
ask  —  he  was  only  perfectly  certain  that  it  would  be 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  141 

beyond  his  knowledge ;  but  as  Saunderson  always  gave 
the  answer  himself  in  the  end,  and  imputed  it  to  the 
student,  anxiety  was  reduced  to  a  minimum.  Saunder- 
son, indeed,  was  in  the  custom  of  passing  all  candidates 
and  reporting  them  as  marvels  of  erudition,  whose  only 
fault  was  a  becoming  modesty  —  which,  however,  had 
not  concealed  from  his  keen  eye  hidden  treasures  of 
learning.  Beyond  this  sphere  the  good  man's  services 
were  not  used  by  a  body  of  shrewd  ecclesiastics,  as  the 
inordinate  length  of  an  ordination  sermon  had  ruined  a 
dinner  prepared  for  the  court  by  "  one  of  our  intelligent 
and  large-hearted  laymen,"  and  it  is  still  pleasantly  told 
how  Saunderson  was  invited  to  a  congregational  soiree  — 
an  ancient  meeting  where  the  people  ate  oranges  and  the 
speaker  rallied  the  minister  on  being  still  unmarried  — 
and  discoursed  —  as  a  carefully  chosen  subject  —  on  the 
Jewish  feasts,  with  illustrations  from  the  Talmud,  till 
some  one  burst  a  paper  bag  and  allowed  the  feelings  of 
the  people  to  escape.  When  this  history  was  passed 
round  Muirtown  Market,  Kilbogie  thought  still  more 
highly  of  their  minister,  and  indicated  their  opinion  of 
the  other  parish  in  severely  theological  language. 

Saunderson's  reputation  for  unfathomable  learning  and 
saintly  simplicity  was  built  up  out  of  many  incidents,  and 
grew  with  the  lapse  of  years  to  a  solitary  height  in  the 
big  strath,  so  that  no  man  would  have  dared  to  smile 
had  the  Free  Kirk  minister  of  Kilbogie  appeared  in 
Muirtown  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and  Kilbogie  would  only 
have  been  a  trifle  more  conceited.  Truly  he  was  an 
amazing  man,  and,  now  that  he  is  dead  and  gone,  the  last 
of  his  race,  I  wish  some  man  of  his  profession  had  written 
his  life,  for  the  doctrine  he  taught  and  the  way  he  lived 
will  not  be  believed  by  the  new  generation.  The  arrival 


1 42  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

of  his  goods  was  more  than  many  sermons  to  Kilbogie, 
and  I  had  it  from  Mains's  own  lips.  It  was  the  kindly 
fashion  of  those  days  that  the  farmers  carted  the  new 
minister's  furniture  from  the  nearest  railway  station,  and 
as  the  railway  to  Kildrummie  was  not  yet  open,  they 
had  to  go  to  Stormont  Station  on  the  north  line ;  and 
a  pleasant  procession  they  made  passing  through  Pits- 
cowrie,  ten  carts  in  their  best  array,  and  drivers  with  a 
semi-festive  air.  Mr.  Saunderson  was  at  the  station,  hav- 
ing reached  it  by  some  miracle  without  mistake,  and  was 
in  a  condition  of  abject  nervousness  about  the  handling 
and  conveyance  of  his  belongings. 

"  You  will  be  careful  —  exceeding  careful,"  he  im- 
plored ;  "  if  one  of  the  boxes  were  allowed  to  descend 
hurriedly  to  the  ground,  the  result  to  what  is  within 
would  be  disastrous.  I  am  much  afraid  that  the  weight 
is  considerable,  but  I  am  ready  to  assist ;  "  and  he  got 
ready. 

"Dinna  pit  yirsel'  intae  a  ferry  farry  (commotion)," 
but  Mains  was  distinctly  pleased  to  see  a  little  touch  of 
worldliness,  just  enough  to  keep  the  new  minister  in 
touch  with  humanity.  "  It  '11  be  queer  stuff  oor  lads 
canna  lift,  an'  a  '11  gie  ye  a  warranty  that  the'  '11  no  be  a 
cup  o'  the  cheeny  broken ; "  and  then  Saunderson  con- 
ducted his  congregation  to  the  siding. 

"  Dod,  man,"  remarked  Mains  to  the  station-master, 
examining  a  truck  with  eight  boxes ;  "  the  manse  '11  no 
want  for  dishes  at  ony  rate ;  but  let 's  start  on  the  furni- 
ture; whar  hae  ye  got  the  rest  o'  the  plenishing? 

"Naething  mair?  havers,  man,  ye  dinna  mean  tae  say 
they  pack  beds  an'  tables  in  boxes ;  a'  doot  there  's  a 
truck  missin'."  Then  Mains  went  over  where  the  minis- 
ter was  fidgeting  beside  his  possessions. 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  143 

"  No,  no,"  said  Saunderson,  when  the  situation  was 
put  before  him,  "  it 's  all  here.  I  counted  the  boxes, 
and  I  packed  every  box  myself.  That  top  one  contains 
the  fathers  —  deal  gently  with  it ;  and  the  Reformation 
divines  are  just  below  it.  Books  are  easily  injured,  and 
they  feel  it.  I  do  believe  there  is  a  certain  life  in  them, 
and  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  they  don't  like  being  ill-used,"  and 
Jeremiah  looked  wistfully  at  the  ploughmen. 

"  Div  ye  mean  tae  say,"  as  soon  as  Mains  had 
recovered,  "  that  ye  've  brocht  naethin'  for  the  manse  but 
bukes,  naither  bed  nor  bedding?  Keep's  a',"  as  the  sit- 
uation grew  upon  him,  "  whar  are  ye  tae  sleep,  and  what 
are  ye  to  sit  on  ?  An'  div  ye  never  eat  ?  This  croons 
a' ;  "  and  Mains  gazed  at  his  new  minister  as  one  who 
supposed  that  he  had  taken  Jeremiah's  measure  and  had 
failed  utterly. 

"  Mea  culpa  —  it 's  .  .  .  my  blame,"  and  Saunderson 
was  evidently  humbled  at  this  public  exposure  of  his  in- 
capacity ;  "  some  slight  furnishing  will  be  expedient, 
even  necessary,  and  I  have  a  plan  for  book-shelves  in  my 
head  ;  it  is  ingenious  and  convenient,  and  if  there  is  a 
worker  in  wood  .  .  ." 

"  Come  awa'  tae  the  dog-cart,  sir,"  said  Mains,  realis- 
ing that  even  Kilbogie  did  not  know  what  a  singular  gift 
they  had  obtained,  and  that  discussion  on  such  sublunary 
matters  as  pots  and  pans  was  useless,  not  to  say  profane. 
So  eight  carts  got  a  box  each ;  one,  Jeremiah's  ancient 
kist  of  moderate  dimensions  ;  and  the  tenth  —  that  none 
might  be  left  unrecognised  —  a  handbag  that  had  been 
on  the  twelve  years'  probation  with  its  master.  The 
story  grew  as  it  passed  westwards,  and  when  it  reached  us 
we  were  given  to  understand  that  the  Free  Kirk  minister 
of  Kilbogie  had  come  to  his  parish  with  his  clothing  in  a 


i44  KATE  CARNEGIE. 

paper  parcel  and  twenty-four  packing  cases  filled  with 
books,  in  as  many  languages  —  half  of  them  dating  from 
the  introduction  of  printing,  and  fastened  by  silver  clasps 
—  and  that  if  Drumtochty  seriously  desired  to  hear  an 
intellectual  sermon  at  a  time,  we  must  take  our  way 
through  Tochty  woods. 

Mrs.  Pitillo  took  the  minister  into  her  hands,  and 
compelled  him  to  accompany  her  to  Muirtown,  where 
she  had  him  at  her  will  for  some  time,  so  that  she 
equipped  the  kitchen  (fully),  a  dining-room  (fairly),  a 
spare  bedroom  (amply),  Mr.  Saunderson's  own  bed- 
room (miserably),  and  secured  a  table  and  two  chairs 
for  the  study.  This  success  turned  her  head.  Full  of 
motherly  forethought,  and  having  a  keen  remembrance 
that  probationers  always  retired  in  the  afternoon  at 
Mains  to  think  over  the  evening's  address,  and  left  an 
impress  of  the  human  form  on  the  bed  when  they  came 
down  to  tea,  Mrs.  Pitillo  suggested  that  a  sofa  would  be 
an  admirable  addition  to  the  study.  As  soon  as  this 
piece  of  furniture,  of  a  size  suitable  for  his  six  feet,  was 
pointed  out  to  the  minister,  he  took  fright,  and  became 
quite  unmanageable.  He  would  not  have  such  an  article 
in  his  study  on  any  account,  partly  because  it  would  only 
feed  a  tendency  to  sloth  —  which,  he  explained,  was  one  of 
his  besetting  sins  —  and  partly  because  it  would  curtail 
the  space  available  for  books,  which,  he  indicated,  were 
the  proper  furniture  of  any  room,  but  chiefly  of  a  study. 
So  great  was  his  alarm  that  he  repented  of  too  early  con- 
cessions about  the  other  rooms,  and  explained  to  Mrs. 
Pitillo  that  every  inch  of  space  must  be  rigidly  kept  for 
the  overflow  from  the  study,  which  he  expected  —  if  he 
were  spared  —  would  reach  the  garrets.  Several  times  on 
their  way  back  to  Kilbogie,  Saunderson  looked  wistfully 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  145 

at  Mrs.  Pitillo,  and  once  opened  his  mouth  as  if  to  speak, 
from  which  she  gathered  that  he  was  grateful  for  her 
kindness,  but  dared  not  yield  any  farther  to  the  luxuries 
of  the  flesh. 

What  this  worthy  woman  endured  in  securing  a  suc- 
cession of  reliable  housekeepers  for  Mr.  Saunderson  and 
overseeing  the  interior  of  that  remarkable  home,  she 
was  never  able  to  explain  to  her  own  satisfaction,  though 
she  made  many  honest  efforts,  and  one  of  her  last  intel- 
ligible utterances  was  a  lamentable  prophecy  of  the  final 
estate  of  the  Free  Church  manse  of  Kilbogie.  Mr. 
Saunderson  himself  seemed  at  times  to  have  some  vague 
idea  of  her  painful  services,  and  once  mentioned  her 
name  to  Carmichael  in  feeling  terms.  There  had  been 
some  delay  in  providing  for  the  bodily  wants  of  the 
visitor  after  his  eight  miles'  walk  from  Drumtochty,  and 
it  seemed  likely  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  take  his 
meal  standing  for  want  of  a  chair. 

'•'  While  Mrs.  Pitillo  lived,  I  have  a  strong  impression, 
almost  amounting  to  certainty,  that  the  domestic  arrange- 
ments of  the  manse  were  better  ordered ;  she  had  the 
episcopal  faculty  in  quite  a  conspicuous  degree,  and  was, 
I  have  often  thought,  a  woman  of  sound  judgment. 

"  We  were  not  able  at  all  times  to  see  eye  to  eye,  as 
she  had  an  unfortunate  tendency  to  meddle  with  my 
books  and  papers,  and  to  arrange  them  after  an  artifi- 
cial fashion.  This  she  called  tidying,  and,  in  its  most 
extreme  form,  cleaning. 

"  With  all  her  excellencies,  there  was  also  in  her  what 
I  have  noticed  in  most  women,  a  certain  flavour  of 
guile,  and  on  one  occasion,  when  I  was  making  a  brief 
journey  through  Holland  and  France  in  search  of  comely 
editions  of  the  fathers,  she  had  the  books  carried  out 


"  SHE  HAD  AN  UNFORTUNATE  TENDENCY  TO  MEDDLE  WITH 
MY  BOOKS." 


A   SUPRA-LAPSARIAN.  147 

to  the  garden  and  dusted.  It  was  the  space  of  two 
years  before  I  regained  mastery  of  my  library  again,  and 
unto  this  day  I  cannot  lay  my  hands  on  the  service  book 
of  King  Henry  VIII. ,  which  I  had  in  the  second  edition, 
to  say  nothing  of  an  original  edition  of  Rutherford's 
Lex  Rex. 

"  It  does  not  become  me,  however,  to  reflect  on  the 
efforts  of  that  worthy  matron,  for  she  was  by  nature  a 
good  woman,  and  if  any  one  could  be  saved  by  good 
works,  her  place  is  assured.  I  was  with  her  before  she 
died,  and  her  last  words  to  me  were,  '  Tell  Jean  tae  dust 
yir  bukes  aince  in  the  sax  months,  and  for  ony  sake  keep 
ae  chair  for  sittin'  on.'  It  was  not  the  testimony  one 
would  have  desired  in  the  circumstances,  but  yet,  Mr. 
Carmichael,  I  have  often  thought  that  there  was  a  spirit 
of  ...  of  unselfishness,  in  fact,  that  showed  the  working 
of  grace."  Later  in  the  same  evening  Mr.  Saunderson's 
mind  returned  to  his  friend's  spiritual  state,  for  he  entered 
into  a  long  argument  to  show  that  while  Mary  was  more 
spiritual,  Martha  must  also  have  been  within  the  Divine 
Election. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


IN   THE    GLOAMING. 

UGUST  is  our  summer  time  in 
the  north,  and  Carmichael 
found  it  pleasant  walking 
from  Lynedoch  bridge  to 
Kilbogie.  The  softness 
of  the  gloaming,  and  the 
freshness  of  the  falling 
dew,  and  the  scent  of 
the  honeysuckle  in  the 
hedge,  and  the  smell  of  the  cut 
corn  in  the  fields  —  for  harvest 
is  earlier  down  there  than  with 
us  —  and  the  cattle  chewing 
the  cud,  and  the  sheltering 
shadow  of  old  beech  trees,  shed  peace  upon 
him  and  touched  the  young  minister's  imagination. 
Fancies  he  may  have  had  in  early  youth,  but  he  had 
never  loved  any  woman  except  his  mother  and  his  aunt. 
There  had  been  times  when  he  and  his  set  declared  they 
would  never  marry,  and  one,  whose  heart  was  understood 
to  be  blighted,  had  drawn  up  the  constitution  of  a  celi- 
bate Union.  It  was  never  completed  —  and  therefore 
never  signed  —  because  the  brotherhood  could  not  agree 
about  the  duration  of  the  vows  —  the  draftsman,  who  has 
been  twice  married  since  then,  standing  stiffly  for  their 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  149 

perpetuity,  while  the  others  considered  that  a  dis- 
pensing power  might  be  lodged  in  the  Moderator  of 
Assembly. 

This  railing  against  marriage  on  the  part  of  his  friends 
was  pure  boyishness,  and  they  all  were  engaged  on  the 
mere  prospect  of  a  kirk,  but  Carmichael  had  more  of  a 
mind  on  the  matter.  There  was  in  him  an  ascetic  bent, 
inherited  from  some  Catholic  ancestor,  and  he  was  al- 
most convinced  that  a  minister  would  serve  God  with 
more  abandonment  in  the  celibate  state.  As  an  only 
child,  and  brought  up  by  a  mother  given  to  noble 
thoughts,  he  had  learned  to  set  women  in  a  place  by 
themselves,  and  considered  marriage  for  ordinary  men 
to  flavour  of  sacrilege.  His  mother  had  bound  it  as  a 
law  upon  him  that  he  was  never  to  exercise  his  tongue 
on  a  woman's  failings,  never  to  argue  with  a  woman  unto 
her  embarrassment,  never  to  regard  her  otherwise  than 
as  his  superior.  Women  noticed  that  Carmichael  bore 
himself  to  them  as  if  each  were  a  Madonna,  and  treated 
him  in  turn  according  to  their  nature.  Some  were 
abashed,  and  could  not  understand  the  lad's  shyness  ; 
those  were  saints.  Some  were  amused,  and  suspected 
him  of  sarcasm  ;  those  were  less  than  saints.  Some  hor- 
rified him  unto  confusion  of  face  because  of  the  shame- 
ful things  they  said.  One  middle-aged  female,  whose 
conversation  oscillated  between  physiology  and  rescue 
work,  compelled  Carmichael  to  sue  for  mercy  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  not  been  accustomed  to  speak  about 
such  details  of  life  with  a  woman,  and  ever  afterwards 
described  him  as  a  prude.  It  seemed  to  Carmichael 
that  he  was  disliked  by  some  women  because  he  thought 
more  highly  of  them  than  they  thought  of  themselves. 

Carmichael  was  much  tried  by  the  baser  of  his  fellow- 


1 50  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

students,  especially  a  certain  class  of  smug,  self-contented, 
unctuous  men,  who  neither  had  endured  hardship  to  get 
to  college,  nor  did  any  work  at  college.  They  were 
described  in  reports  as  the  "  fruits  of  the  revival,"  and 
had  been  taken  from  behind  counters  and  sent  to  the 
University,  not  because  they  had  any  love  of  letters,  like 
Domsie's  lads  at  Drumtochty,  but  because  rich  old  ladies 
were  much  impressed  by  the  young  men's  talk,  and  the 
young  men  were  perfectly  aware  that  they  would  be 
better  off  in  the  ministry  than  in  any  situation  they  could 
gain  by  their  own  merits.  As  Carmichael  grew  older, 
and  therefore  more  charitable,  he  discovered  with  what 
faulty  tools  the  work  of  the  world  and  even  of  kirks  is 
carried  on,  and  how  there  is  a  root  of  good  in  very  coarse 
and  common  souls.  When  he  was  a  young  judge  — 
from  whom  may  the  Eternal  deliver  us  all  —  he  was 
bitter  against  the  "  fruits,"  as  he  called  them,  because 
they  did  their  best  to  escape  examinations,  and  spoke  in 
a  falsetto  voice,  and  had  no  interest  in  dogs,  and  because 
they  told  incredible  tales  of  their  spiritual  achievements. 
But  chiefly  did  Carmichael's  gorge  rise  against  those 
unfortunates  because  of  the  mean  way  they  spoke  of 
marriage,  and  on  this  account,  being  a  high-spirited 
young  fellow,  he  said  things  which  could  hardly  be  de- 
fended, and  of  which  afterwards  he  honestly  repented. 

"  Yes,  religion  is  profitable  for  both  worlds,"  one  of 
them  would  exhort  by  the  junior  common-room  fire, 
"  and  if  you  doubt  it,  look  at  me  ;  five-and-twenty  shill- 
ings a  week  as  a  draper's  assistant  was  all  I  had,  and  no 
chance  of  rising.  Now  I  'm  a  gentleman  "  —  here  Car- 
michael used  to  look  at  the  uncleanly  little  man  and 
snort — "and  in  two  years  I  could  ask  any  girl  in 
religious  society,  and  she  would  take  me.  A  minister 


IN    THE   GLOAMING.  151 

can  marry  any  woman,  if  he  be  evangelical.  Ah,"  he 
would  conclude,  with  a  fine  strain  of  piety,  "  the  Gospel 
is  its  own  reward." 

What  enraged  Carmichael  as  he  listened  in  the  dis- 
tance to  these  paeans  of  Pharisaism  was  the  disgusting 
fact  that  the  "  fruits  "  did  carry  off  great  spoil  in  the 
marriage  field,  so  that  to  a  minister  without  culture, 
manners,  or  manliness,  a  middle-class  family  would  give 
their  pet  daughter,  when  they  would  have  refused  her  to  a 
ten  times  better  man  fighting  his  way  up  in  commerce.  If 
she  died,  then  this  enterprising  buccaneer  would  achieve 
a  second  and  third  conquest,  till  in  old  age  he  would 
rival  the  patriarchs  in  the  number  of  his  wives  and  pos- 
sessions. As  for  the  girl,  Carmichael  concluded  that  she 
was  still  under  the  glamour  of  an  ancient  superstition, 
and  took  the  veil  after  a  very  commonplace  and  squalid 
Protestant  fashion.  This  particular  "  fruit "  against  whom 
Carmichael  in  his  young  uncharitableness  especially 
raged,  because  he  was  more  self-complacent  and  more 
illiterate  than  his  fellows,  married  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
self-made  man,  and  on  the  father's  death  developed  a 
peculiar  form  of  throat  disease,  which  laid  him  aside 
from  the  active  work  of  the  ministry  —  a  mysterious 
providence,  as  he  often  explained  —  but  allowed  him  to 
enjoy  life  with  a  guarded  satisfaction.  What  Carmichael 
said  to  him  about  his  ways  and  his  Gospel  was  very 
unpleasant  and  quite  unlike  Carmichael's  kindly  nature, 
but  the  only  revenge  the  victim  took  was  to  state  his 
conviction  that  Scotland  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
a  man  that  was  utterly  worldly,  and  in  after  years  to 
warn  vacant  churches  against  one  who  did  not  preach 
the  Cross. 

After   one  of  those   common-room   encounters,   Car- 


I52  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

michael  used  to  fling  himself  out  into  the  east  wind  and 
greyness  of  Edinburgh,  fuming  against  the  simplicity  of 
good  people,  against  the  provincialism  of  his  college, 
against  the  Pharisaism  of  his  church,  against  the  Philistin- 
ism of  Scottish  life.  He  would  go  down  to  Holyrood 
and  pity  Queen  Mary,  transported  from  the  gay  court  of 
France  to  Knox's  Scotland,  divided  between  theology 
and  bloodshed.  In  the  evening  he  would  sweep  his 
table  clean  of  German  books  on  the  Pentateuch,  and 
cover  it  with  prints  of  the  old  masters,  which  he  had 
begun  to  collect,  and  ancient  books  of  Catholic  devotion, 
and  read  two  letters  to  his  mother  from  her  uncle,  who 
had  been  a  Vicar-General,  and  died  in  an  old  Scottish 
convent  in  Spain.  There  was  very  little  in  the  letters 
beyond  good  wishes,  and  an  account  of  the  Vicar- 
General's  health,  but  they  seemed  to  link  a  Free  Kirk 
divinity  student  on  to  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.  Mother 
Church  cast  her  spell  over  his  imagination,  and  he  envied 
the  lot  of  her  priests,  who  held  a  commission  no  man 
denied  and  administered  a  world-wide  worship,  whom  a 
splendid  tradition  sanctioned,  whom  each  of  the  arts 
hastened  to  aid ;  while  he  was  to  be  the  minister  of  a 
local  sect  and  work  with  the  "  fruits,"  who  knew  nothing 
of  Catholic  Christianity,  but  supposed  their  little  eddy, 
whereon  they  danced  like  rotten  sticks,  to  be  the  main 
stream.  Next  day  a  reaction  would  set  in,  and  Car- 
michael  would  have  a  fit  of  Bohemianism,  and  resolve  to  be 
a  man  of  letters.  So  the  big  books  on  theology  would  again 
be  set  aside,  and  he  would  write  an  article  for  Ferrier's 
Journal,  that  kindliest  of  all  journals  to  the  young  author, 
which  he  would  receive  back  in  a  week  "  with  thanks." 
The  Sunday  night  came,  and  Carmichael  sat  down  to 
write  his  weekly  letter  to  his  mother  —  she  got  notes 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  153 

between,  he  found  them  all  in  her  drawers,  not  a  scrap 
missing  —  and  as  he  wrote,  his  prejudices,  and  petu- 
lances, and  fancies,  and  unrest  passed  away.  Before  he 


MOTHER   CHURCH    CAST   HER   SPELL   OVER    HIS 
IMAGINATION. 

had  told  her  all  that  happened  to  him  during  the  week  — 
touching  gently  on  the  poor  Revivalist  —  although  his 
mother  had  a  saving  sense  of  humour,  and  was  a  quite 
wonderful  mimic  —  and  saying  nothing  of  his  evening 


1 54  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

with  St.  Francis  tie  Sales  —  for  this  would  have  alarmed 
her  at  once  —  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  he  would  be 
neither  a  Roman  nor  a  reporter,  but  a  Free  Kirk  minis- 
ter, and  was  not  utterly  cast  down ;  for  notwithstanding 
the  yeasty  commotion  of  youth  and  its  censoriousness, 
he  had  a  shrewd  idea  that  a  man  is  likely  to  do  his  life- 
work  best  in  the  tradition  of  his  faith  and  blood.  Next 
morning  his  heart  warmed  as  he  went  in  through  the 
college  gates,  and  he  would  have  defended  Knox  unto 
the  death,  as  the  maker  of  Scotland.  His  fellow-students 
seemed  now  a  very  honest  set  of  men,  as  indeed  they 
were,  although  a  trifle  limited  in  horizon,  and  he  hoped 
that  one  of  the  "  fruits  "  was  "  satisfied  with  his  Sunday's 
work,"  which  shows  that  as  often  as  a  man  of  twenty-one 
gets  out  of  touch  with  reality,  he  ought  straightway  to 
sit  down  and  write  to  his  mother.  Carmichael  indeed 
told  me  one  evening  at  the  Cottage  that  he  never  had 
any  mystical  call  to  the  ministry,  but  only  had  entered 
the  Divinity  Hall  instead  of  going  to  Oxford  because  his 
mother  had  this  for  her  heart's  desire,  and  he  loved  her. 
As  a  layman  it  perhaps  did  not  become  me  to  judge 
mysteries,  but  I  dared  to  say  that  any  man  might  well 
be  guided  by  his  mother  in  religion,  and  that  the  closer 
he  kept  to  her  memory  the  better  he  would  do  his  work. 
After  which  both  of  us  smoked  furiously,  and  Carmichael, 
two  minutes  later,  was  moved  to  remark  that  some  Turk- 
ish I  had  then  was  enough  to  lure  a  man  up  Glen  Urtach 
in  the  month  of  December. 

The  young  minister  was  stirred  on  the  way  to  Kil- 
bogie,  and  began  to  dream  dreams  in  the  twilight.  Love 
had  come  suddenly  to  him,  and  after  an  unexpected 
fashion.  Miss  Carnegie  was  of  another  rank  and  another 
faith,  nor  was  she  even  his  ideal  woman,  neither  con- 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  155 

spicuously  spiritual  nor  gentle,  but  frank,  outspoken, 
fearless,  self-willed.  He  could  also  see  that  she  had 
been  spoiled  by  her  father  and  his  friends,  who  had 
given  her  carte  blanche  to  say  and  do  what  she  pleased. 
Very  likely  —  he  could  admit  that  even  in  the  first  blush 
of  his  emotion  —  she  might  be  passionate  and  prejudiced 
on  occasion,  even  a  fierce  hater.  This  he  had  imagined 
in  the  Tochty  woods,  and  was  not  afraid,  for  her  imper- 
fections seemed  to  him  a  provocation  and  an  attraction. 
They  were  the  defects  of  her  qualities  —  of  her  courage, 
candour,  generosity,  affection.  Carmichael  leant  upon  a 
stile,  and  recalled  the  carriage  of  her  head,  the  quick 
flash  of  her  eye,  the  tap  of  her  foot,  the  fascination  of 
her  manner.  She  was  free  from  the  affectations,  gau- 
cheries,  commonplaces,  wearinesses  of  many  good  women 
he  had  known.  St.  Theresa  had  been  the  woman  en- 
shrined in  the  tabernacle  of  his  heart,  but  life  might 
have  been  a  trifle  tiresome  if  a  man  were  married  to  a 
saint.  The  saints  have  no  humour,  and  do  not  relax. 
Life  with  a  woman  like  Miss  Carnegie  would  be  efferves- 
cent and  stimulating,  full  of  surprises  and  piquancy.  No, 
she  was  not  a  saint,  but  he  felt  by  an  instinct  she  was 
pure,  loyal,  reverent,  and  true  at  the  core.  She  was  a 
gallant  lass,  and  ...  he  loved  her. 

What  an  absurdity  was  this  revery,  and  Carmichael 
laughed  aloud  at  himself.  Twice  he  had  met  Miss 
Carnegie  —  on  one  occasion  she  had  found  him  watering 
strange  dogs  out  of  his  hat,  and  on  the  other  he  had 
given  her  to  understand  that  women  were  little  removed 
from  fools.  He  had  made  the  worst  of  himself,  and  this 
young  woman  who  had  lived  with  smart  people  must 
have  laughed  at  him.  Very  likely  she  had  made  him 
into  a  story,  for  as  a  raconteur  himself  he  knew  the 


iS6  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

temptation  to  work  up  raw  material,  or  perhaps  Miss 
Carnegie  had  forgotten  long  ago  that  he  had  called. 
Suppose  that  he  should  call  to-morrow  on  his  way  home 
and  say,  "  General  Carnegie,  I  think  it  right  to  tell  you 
that  I  admire  your  daughter  very  much,  and  should  like 
your  permission  to  pay  my  addresses.  I  am  Free 
Church  minister  in  Drumtochty,  and  my  stipend  is  £200 
a  year  "...  his  laugh  this  time  was  rather  bitter.  The 
Carnegies  would  be  at  once  admitted  into  the  county 
set,  and  he  would  only  meet  them  at  a  time  .  .  .  Lord 
Hay  was  a  handsome  and  pleasant  young  fellow.  He 
would  be  at  Glen  Urtach  House  for  the  shooting  in  a  few 
days  .  .  .  that  was  a  likely  thing  to  happen  .  .  .  the 
families  were  old  friends  .  .  .  there  would  be  great  fes- 
tivities in  the  Glen  .  .  .  perhaps  he  would  be  asked  to 
propose  the  bride's  health  ...  It  really  seemed  a 
providence  that  Saunderson  should  come  along  the  road 
when  he  was  playing  the  fool  like  a  puling  boy,  for  if 
any  man  could  give  a  douche  to  love-sickness  it  was  the 
minister  of  Kilbogie. 

Carmichael  was  standing  in  the  shadow  as  Saunderson 
came  along  the  road,  and  the  faint  light  was  a  perfect 
atmosphere  for  the  dear  old  bookman.  Standing  at  his 
full  height  he  might  have  been  six  feet,  but  with  much 
poring  over  books  and  meditation  he  had  descended 
some  three  inches.  His  hair  was  long,  not  because  he 
made  any  conscious  claim  to  genius,  but  because  he  for- 
got to  get  it  cut,  and  with  his  flowing,  untrimmed  beard, 
was  now  quite  grey.  Within  his  clothes  he  was  the 
merest  skeleton,  being  so  thin  that  his  shoulder-blades 
stood  out  in  sharp  outline,  and  his  hands  were  almost 
transparent.  The  redeeming  feature  in  Saunderson  was 
his  eyes,  which  were  large  and  eloquent,  of  a  trustful, 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  157 

wistful  hazel,  the  beautiful  eyes  of  a  dumb  animal. 
Whether  he  was  expounding  doctrines  of  an  incredible 
disbelief  in  humanity  or  exalting,  in  rare  moments,  the 
riches  of  a  divine  love  in  which  he  did  not  expect  to 
share,  or  humbly  beseeching  his  brethren  to  give  him 
information  on  some  point  in  scholarship  no  one  knew 
anything  about  except  himself,  or  stroking  the  hair  of 
some  little  child  sitting  upon  his  knee,  those  eyes  were 
ever  simple,  honest,  and  most  pathetic.  Young  ministers 
coming  to  the  Presbytery  full  of  self-conceit  and  new 
views  were  arrested  by  their  light  shining  through  the 
glasses,  and  came  in  a  year  or  two  to  have  a  profound 
regard  for  Saunderson,  curiously  compounded  of  amuse- 
ment at  his  ways,  which  for  strangeness  were  quite 
beyond  imagination,  admiration  for  his  knowledge, 
which  was  amazing  for  its  accuracy  and  comprehensive- 
ness, respect  for  his  honesty,  which  feared  no  conclusion, 
however  repellent  to  flesh  and  blood,  but  chiefly  of  love 
for  the  unaffected  and  shining  goodness  of  a  man  in 
whose  virgin  soul  neither  self  nor  this  world  had  any 
part.  For  years  the  youngsters  of  the  Presbytery  knew 
not  how  to  address  the  minister  of  Kilbogie,  since  any 
one  who  had  dared  to  call  him  Saunderson,  as  they  said 
"  Carmichael  "  and  even  "  MacWheep,"  though  he  was 
elderly,  would  have  been  deposed,  without  delay,  from 
the  ministry  —  so  much  reverence  at  least  was  in  the 
lads  —  and  "Mister  "  attached  to  this  personality  would 
be  like  a  silk  hat  on  the  head  of  an  Eastern  sage.  Jen- 
kins of  Pitrodie  always  considered  that  he  was  inspired 
when  he  one  day  called  Saunderson  "Rabbi,"  and  unto 
the  day  of  his  death  Kilbogie  was  so  called.  He  made 
protest  against  the  title  as  being  forbidden  in  the  Gos- 
pels, but  the  lads  insisted  that  it  must  be  understood  in 


158  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

the  sense  of  scholar,  whereupon  Saunderson  disowned  it 
on  the  ground  of  his  slender  attainments.  The  lads  saw 
the  force  of  this  objection,  and  admitted  that  the 
honourable  word  belonged  by  rights  to  MacWheep,  but 
it  was  their  fancy  to  assign  it  to  Saunderson  —  whereat 
Saunderson  yielded,  only  exacting  a  pledge  that  he 
should  never  be  so  called  in  public,  lest  all  concerned  be 
condemned  for  foolishness.  When  it  was  announced 
that  the  University  of  Edinburgh  had  resolved  to  confer 
the  degree  of  D.  D.  on  him  for  his  distinguished  learning 
and  great  services  to  theological  scholarship,  Saunderson, 
who  was  delighted  when  Dovvbiggin  of  Muirtown  got  the 
honour  for  being  an  ecclesiastic,  would  have  refused  it 
for  himself  had  not  his  boys  gone  out  in  a  body  and 
compelled  him  to  accept.  They  also  purchased  a 
Doctor's  gown  and  hood,  and  invested  him  with  them  in 
the  name  of  Kilbogie  two  days  before  the  capping. 
One  of  them  saw  that  he  was  duly  brought  to  the  Tol- 
booth  Kirk,  where  the  capping  ceremonial  in  those  days 
took  place.  Another  sent  a  list  of  Saunderson's  articles 
to  British  and  foreign  theological  and  philological  re- 
views, which  filled  half  a  column  of  the  Caledonian,  and 
drew  forth  a  complimentary  article  from  that  exceedingly 
able  and  caustic  paper,  whose  editor  lost  all  his  hair 
through  sympathetic  emotion  the  morning  of  the  Dis- 
ruption, and  ever  afterwards  pointed  out  the  faults  of  the 
Free  Kirk  with  much  frankness.  The  fame  of  Rabbi 
Saunderson  was  so  spread  abroad  that  a  great  cheer  went 
up  as  he  came  in  with  the  other  Doctors  elect,  in  which 
he  cordially  joined,  considering  it  to  be  intended  for  his 
neighbour,  a  successful  West-end  clergyman,  the  author 
of  a  Life  of  Dorcas  and  other  pleasing  booklets.  For 
some  time  after  his  boys  said  "  Doctor  "  in  every  third 


IN   THE    GLOAMING.  159 

sentence,  and  then  grew  weary  of  a  too  common  title, 
and  fell  back  on  Rabbi,  by  which  he  was  known 
unto  the  day  of  his  death,  and  which  is  now  engraved  on 
his  tombstone. 

The  Rabbi  was  tasting  some  morsel  of  literature  as  he 
came  along,  and  halted  opposite  Carmichael,  whom  he 
did  not  see  in  the  shadow,  that  he  might  enjoy  it  aloud. 

"  That  is  French  verse,  Rabbi,  I  think,  but  it  sounds 
archaic ;  is  it  from  a  Huguenot  poet?  " 

"Assuredly,"  replied  the  Rabbi,  not  one  whit  aston- 
ished that  a  man  should  come  out  from  a  hedge  on  Kil- 
bogie  road  and  recognise  his  quotation  ;  "  from  Clement 
Marot,  whom,  as  you  remember,  there  is  good  evidence 
Queen  Mary  used  to  read.  It  is  you,  John  Carmichael." 
The  Rabbi  awoke  from  the  past,  and  held  CarmichaePs 
hand  in  both  of  his.  "  This  was  very  mindful.  You 
were  going  home  from  Pitscowrie  and  turned  aside  to 
visit  me. 

"  It  is  unfortunate  that  I  am  hastening  to  a  farm 
called  the  Mains,  on  the  border  uf  Pitscourie  parish,  to 
expound  the  Word ;  but  you  will  go  on  to  the  Manse 
and  straitly  charge  Barbara  to  give  you  food,  and  I  will 
hasten  to  return."  And  the  Rabbi  looked  forward  to 
the  night  with  great  satisfaction. 

"  No,  I  am  not  coming  from  Pitscowrie,  and  you  are 
not  going  there,  as  far  as  one  can  see.  Why,  you  are  on 
your  way  to  Tochty  woods ;  you  are  going  west  instead 
of  east;  Rabbi,  tell  the  truth,  have  you  been  snuffing?" 

This  was  a  searching  question,  and  full  of  history. 
When  the  Rabbi  turned  his  back  against  the  wind  to 
snuff  with  greater  comfort,  he  was  not  careful  to  resume 
his  original  position,  but  continued  cheerfully  in  the  new 
direction.  This  weakness  was  so  well  known  that  the 


160  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

school  bairns  would  watch  till  he  had  started,  and  stand 
in  a  row  on  the  road  to  block  his  progress.  Then  there 
would  be  a  parley,  which  would  end  in  the  Rabbi  capit- 
ulating and  rewarding  the  children  with  peppermints, 
whereupon  they  would  see  him  fairly  off  again  and  go  on 
their  way  —  often  looking  back  to  see  that  he  was  safe, 
and  somehow  loving  him  all  the  more  for  his  strange 
ways.  So  much  indeed  was  the  Rabbi  beloved  that  a 
Pitscowrie  laddie,  who  described  Saunderson  freely  as  a 
"  daftie "  to  Mains'  grandson,  did  not  see  clearly  for 
a  week,  and  never  recovered  his  lost  front  tooth. 

"  That,"  remarked  young  Mains,  "  '11  learn  Pitscowrie 
tae  set  up  impidence  aboot  the  minister." 

"  There  is  no  doubt  that  I  snuffed  —  it  was  at 
Claypots  steading  —  but  there  was  no  wind  that  I 
should  turn.  This  is  very  remarkable,  John,  and  .  .  . 
disconcerting. 

"  These  humiliations  are  doubtless  a  lesson,"  resumed 
the  Rabbi  as  they  hurried  to  Mains,  "  and  a  rebuke. 
Snuffing  is  in  no  sen  e  a  necessity,  and  I  have  long 
recognised  that  the  habit  requires  to  be  restricted  — 
very  carefully  restricted.  For  some  time  I  have  had 
fixed  times  —  once  in  the  forenoon,  once  in  the  after- 
noon, and  again  in  the  evening.  Had  I  restrained  my- 
self till  my  work  was  over  and  I  had  returned  home 
this  misadventure  would  not  have  occurred,  whereby  I 
have  been  hindered  and  the  people  will  have  been  kept 
waiting  for  their  spiritual  food. 

"  It  is  exactly  twenty  years  to-night  since  I  began  this 
meeting  in  Mains,"  the  Rabbi  explained  to  Carmichael, 
"and  I  have  had  great  pleasure  in  it  and  some  profit. 
My  subject  has  been  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  by 
the  goodness  of  God  we  are  approaching  the  last  chap- 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  161 

ters.  The  salutations  will  take  about  a  year  or  so ; 
Rufus,  chosen  in  the  Lord,  will  need  careful  treatment ; 
and  then  I  thought,  if  I  were  spared,  of  giving  another 
year  to  a  brief  review  of  the  leading  points  of  doctrine ; 
eh?" 

Carmichael  indicated  that  the  family  at  Mains  would 
almost  expect  something  of  the  sort,  and  inquired 
whether  there  might  not  be  a  few  passages  requiring 
separate  treatment  at  fuller  length  than  was  possible  in 
this  hurried  commentary. 

"  Quite  so,  John,  quite  so ;  no  one  is  more  bitterly 
conscious  of  the  defects  of  this  exposition  than  myself — 
meagre  and  superficial  to  a  degree,  both  in  the  patristic 
references  and  the  experimental  application ;  but  we  are 
frail  creatures,  John,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  ex- 
position of  any  book  should  extend  unto  a  generation. 
It  has  always  caused  me  regret  that  Mains  —  I  mean  the 
father  of  the  present  tenant  —  departed  before  we  had 
come  to  the  comfort  of  the  eighth  chapter." 

The  Rabbi's  mind  was  much  affected  by  this  thought, 
and  twice  in  the  kitchen  his  eye  wandered  to  the  chair 
where  his  friend  had  sat,  with  his  wife  beside  him.  From 
Priscilla  and  Aquila  he  was  led  into  the  question  of  hos- 
pitality, on  which  he  spoke  afterwards  till  they  came  to 
the  Manse,  where  he  stationed  Carmichael  on  the  door- 
step till  he  secured  a  light. 

"  There  is  a  parcel  of  books  on  the  floor,  partially 
opened,  and  the  way  of  passing  is  narrow  and  somewhat 
dangerous  in  the  darkness." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

KILBOGIE   MANSE. 


1NISTERS  there  were  in  the 
great  strath  so  orderly  that  they 
kept  their  sealing-wax  in  one 
drawer  and  their  string  in 
another,   while    their   ser- 
mons were  arranged  under 
the  books  of  the  Bible,  and 
tied  with  green  silk.     Dr. 
Dowbiggin,  though  a  dull  man 
and  of  a  heavy  carriage,  could 
find  in  an  instant  the  original 
draft  of  a  motion  on  instrumen- 
tal music  he  made  in  the  Pres- 
bytery of  Muirtown  in  the  year 
'59,    and   could   also   give    the 
exact  page  in  the  blue-books  for 

every  word  he  had  uttered  in  the  famous  case  when  he 
showed  that  the  use  of  a  harmonium  to  train  MacWheep's 
choir  was  a  return  to  the  bondage  of  Old  Testament 
worship.  His  collection  of  pamphlets  was  supposed  to 
be  unique,  and  was  a  terror  to  controversialists,  no  man 
knowing  when  a  rash  utterance  on  the  bottomless  mystery 
of  "  spiritual  independence "  might  not  be  produced 
from  the  Doctor's  coat-tail  pocket.  He  retired  to  rest 
at  10.15,  and  rose  at  six,  settling  the  subject  of  his  next 


K1LBOGIE    MANSE.  163 

sermon  on  Sabbath  evening,  and  finishing  the  first  head 
before  breakfast  on  Monday  morning.  He  had  three 
hats  —  one  for  funerals,  one  for  marriages,  one  for  ordi- 
nary occasions  —  and  has  returned  from  the  Presbytery 
door  to  brush  his  coat.  Morning  prayers  in  Dr.  Dow- 
biggin's  house  were  at  8.05,  and  the  wrath  of  the  Doctor 
was  so  dangerous  that  one  probationer  staying  at  the 
manse,  and  not  quite  independent  of  influence,  did  not 
venture  to  undress,  but  snatched  a  fearful  doze  sitting 
upright  on  a  cane-bottomed  chair,  lest  he  should  not  be  in 
at  the  psalm.  Young  ministers  of  untidy  habits  regarded 
Dr.  Dowbiggin's  study  with  despair,  and  did  not  recover 
their  spirits  till  they  were  out  of  Muirtown.  Once  only 
did  this  eminent  man  visit  the  manse  of  Kilbogie,  and  in 
favourable  moments  after  dinner  he  would  give  his 
choicer  experiences. 

"  It  is  my  invariable  custom  to  examine  the  bed  to 
see  that  everything  is  in  order,  and  any  one  sleeping  in 
Kilbogie  Manse  will  find  the  good  of  such  a  precaution. 
I  trust  that  I  am  not  a  luxurious  person  —  it  would  ill 
become  one  who  came  out  in  '43  —  but  I  have  certainly 
become  accustomed  to  the  use  of  sheets.  When  I  saw 
there  were  none  on  the  bed,  I  declined  to  sleep  without 
them,  and  I  indicated  my  mind  very  distinctly  on  the 
condition  of  the  manse. 

"  Would  you  believe  it?  "  the  Doctor  used  to  go  on. 
"  Saunderson  explained,  as  if  it  were  a  usual  occurrence, 
that  he  had  given  away  all  the  spare  linen  in  his  house 
to  a  girl  that  had  to  marry  in  ...  urgent  circum- 
stances, and  had  forgotten  to  get  more.  And  what  do 
you  think  did  he  offer  as  a  substitute  for  sheets?"  No 
one  could  even  imagine  what  might  not  occur  to  the 
mind  of  Saunderson. 


1 64  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Towels,  as  I  am  an  honourable  man ;  a  collection  of 
towels,  as  he  put  it,  '  skilfully  attached  together,  might 
make  a  pleasant  covering.'  That  is  the  first  and  last  time 
I  ever  slept  in  the  Free  Church  Manse  of  Kilbogie.  As 
regards  Saunderson's  study,  I  will  guarantee  that  the  like 
of  it  cannot  be  found  within  Scotland,"  and  at  the  very 
thought  of  it  that  exact  and  methodical  ecclesiastic 
realised  the  limitations  of  language. 

His  boys  boasted  of  the  Rabbi's  study  as  something 
that  touched  genius  in  its  magnificent  disorderliness,  and 
Carmichael  was  so  proud  of  it  that  he  took  me  to  see  it  as 
to  a  shrine.  One  whiff  of  its  atmosphere  as  you  entered 
the  door  gave  an  appetite  and  raised  the  highest  expec- 
tations. For  any  bookman  can  estimate  a  library  by 
scent  —  if  an  expert  he  could  even  write  out  a  catalogue 
of  the  books  and  sketch  the  appearance  of  the  owner. 
Heavy  odour  of  polished  mahogany,  Brussels  carpets, 
damask  curtains  and  tablecloths ;  then  the  books  are 
kept  within  glass,  consist  of  sets  of  standard  works  in 
half  calf,  and  the  owner  will  give  you  their  cost  wholesale 
to  a  farthing.  Faint  fragrance  of  delicate  flowers,  and 
Russia  leather,  with  a  hint  of  cigarettes  :  prepare  your- 
self for  a  marvellous  wall-paper,  etchings,  bits  of  oak, 
limited  editions,  and  a  man  in  a  velvet  coat.  Smell  of 
paste  and  cloth  binding  and  general  newness  means  yes- 
terday's books  and  a  man  racing  through  novels  with  a 
paper  knife.  Those  are  only  book-rooms  by  courtesy, 
and  never  can  satisfy  any  one  who  has  breathed  the 
sacred  air.  It  is  a  rich  and  strong  spirit,  not  only  filling 
the  room,  but  pouring  out  from  the  door  and  possessing 
the  hall,  redeeming  an  opposite  dining-room  from  gross- 
ness,  and  a  more  distant  drawing-room  from  frivolity, 
and  even  lending  a  goodly  flavour  to  bedrooms  on  upper 


KILBOGIE    MANSE.  165 

floors.  It  is  distilled  from  curious  old  duodecimos 
packed  on  high  shelves  out  of  sight,  and  blows  over 
folios,  with  large  clasps,  that  once  stood  in  monastery 
libraries,  and  gathers  a  subtle  sweetness  from  parchments 
that  were  illuminated  in  ancient  scriptoriums,  that  are 
now  grass  grown,  and  is  fortified  with  good  old  musty 
calf.  The  wind  was  from  the  right  quarter  on  the  first 
day  I  visited  Kilbogie  Manse,  and  as  we  went  up  the 
garden  walk  the  Rabbi's  library  already  bade  us  wel- 
come, and  assured  us  of  our  reward  for  a  ten  miles' 
walk. 

Saunderson  was  perfectly  helpless  in  all  manner  of 
mechanics  —  he  could  not  drive  a  tack  through  anything 
except  his  own  fingers,  and  had  given  up  shaving  at  the 
suggestion  of  his  elders  —  and  yet  he  boasted,  with  truth, 
that  he  had  got  three  times  as  many  books  into  the 
study  as  his  predecessor  possessed  in  all  his  house.  For 
Saunderson  had  shelved  the  walls  from  the  floor  to  the 
ceiling,  into  every  corner  and  over  the  doors,  and  above 
the  windows,  as  well  as  below  them.  The  wright  had 
wished  to  leave  the  space  clear  above  the  mantelpiece. 

"  Ye  '11  be  hanging  Dr.  Chalmers  there,  or  maybe 
John  Knox,  and  a  bit  clock  '11  be  handy  for  letting  ye 
ken  the  'oors  on  Sabbath." 

The  Rabbi  admitted  that  he  had  a  Knox,  but  was  full  of 
a  scheme  for  hanging  him  over  his  own  history,  which  he 
considered  both  appropriate  and  convenient.  As  regards 
time,  it  was  the  last  thing  of  which  that  worthy  man  de- 
sired to  be  reminded  —  going  to  bed  when  he  could  no 
longer  see  for  weariness,  and  rising  as  soon  as  he  awoke, 
taking  his  food  when  it  was  brought  to  him,  and  be- 
ing conducted  to  church  by  the  beadle  after  the  last 
straggler  was  safely  seated.  He  even  cast  covetous  eyes 


i66 


KATE    CARNEGIE. 


upon  the  two  windows,  which  were  absurdly  large,  as  he 
considered,  but  compromised  matters  by  removing  the 
shutters  and  rilling  up  the  vacant  space  with  slender  works 


"YE'LL  BE  HANGING  DR.  CHALMERS  THERE." 

of  devotion.  It  was  one  of  his  conceits  that  the  rising 
sun  smote  first  on  an  A  Kempis,  for  this  he  had  often 
noticed  as  he  worked  of  a  morning. 

Book-shelves    had    long  ago   failed    to    accommodate 


KILBOGIE    MANSE.  167 

Rabbi's  treasures,  and  the  floor  had  been  bravely  utilised. 
Islands  of  books,  rugged  and  perpendicular,  rose  on 
every  side;  long  promontories  reached  out  from  the 
shore,  varied  .by  bold  headlands ;  and  so  broken  and 
varied  was  that  floor  that  the  Rabbi  was  pleased  to  call 
it  the  .^Egean  Sea,  where  he  had  his  Lesbos  and  his 
Samos.  It  is  absolutely  incredible,  but  it  is  all  the  same 
a  simple  fact,  that  he  knew  every  book  and  its  location, 
having  a  sense  of  the  feel  as  well  as  the  shape  of  his 
favourites.  This  was  not  because  he  had  the  faintest 
approach  to  orderliness  —  for  he  would  take  down  twenty 
volumes  and  never  restore  them  to  the  same  place  by  any 
chance.  It  was  a  sort  of  motherly  instinct  by  which  he 
watched  over  them  all,  even  loved  prodigals  that  wan- 
dered over  all  the  study  and  then  set  off  on  adventurous 
journeys  into  distant  rooms.  The  restoration  of  an  emi- 
grant to  his  lawful  home  was  celebrated  by  a  feast  in 
which,  by  a  confusion  of  circumstances,  the  book  played 
the  part  of  the  fatted  calf,  being  read  afresh  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  During  his  earlier  and  more  agile  years  the 
Rabbi  used  to  reach  the  higher  levels  of  his  study  by 
wonderful  gymnastic  feats,  but  after  two  falls  —  one  with 
three  Ante-Nicene  fathers  in  close  pursuit  —  he  deter- 
mined to  call  in  assistance.  This  he  did  after  an  impres- 
sive fashion.  When  he  attended  the  roup  at  Pitfoodles  — 
a  day  of  historical  prices  —  and  purchased  in  open  com- 
petition, at  three  times  its  value,  a  small  stack  ladder, 
Kilbogie  was  convulsed,  and  Mains  had  to  offer 
explanations. 

"  He  's  cuttit  aff  seevin  feet,  and  rins  up  it  tae  get  his 
tapmaist  bukes,  but  that 's  no  a',''  and  then  Mains  gave 
it  to  be  understood  that  the  rest  of  the  things  the  minis- 
ter had  done  with  that  ladder  were  beyond  words.  For 


1 68  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

in  order  that  the  rough  wood  might  not  scar  the  sensitive 
backs  of  the  fathers,  the  Rabbi  had  covered  the  upper 
end  with  cloth,  and  for  that  purpose  had  utilised  a  pair 
of  trousers.  It  was  not  within  his  ability  in  any  way  to 
reduce  or  adapt  his  material,  so  that  those  interesting 
garments  remained  in  their  original  shape,  and,  as  often 
as  the  ladder  stood  reversed,  presented  a  very  impressive 
and  diverting  spectacle.  It  was  the  inspiration  of  one  of 
Carmichael's  most  successful  stories  —  how  he  had  done 
his  best  to  console  a  woman  on  the  death  of  her  hus- 
band, and  had  not  altogether  failed,  till  she  caught  sight 
of  the  deceased's  nether  garments  waving  disconsolately 
on  a  rope  in  the  garden,  when  she  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. "  Toom  (empty)  breeks  tae  me  noo,"  and  she 
wept  profusely,  "  toom  breeks  tae  me." 

One  of  the  great  efforts  of  the  Rabbi's  life  was  to  seat 
his  visitors,  since,  beyond  the  one  chair,  accommodation 
had  to  be  provided  on  the  table,  wheresoever  there  hap- 
pened to  be  no  papers,  and  on  the  ledges  of  the  book- 
cases. It  was  pretty  to  see  the  host  suggesting  from  a 
long  experience  those  coigns  of  vantage  he  counted  easi- 
est and  safest,  giving  warnings  also  of  unsuspected  dan- 
ger in  the  shape  of  restless  books  that  might  either 
yield  beneath  one's  feet  or  descend  on  one's  head. 
Carmichael,  however,  needed  no  such  guidance,  for  he 
knew  his  way  about  in  the  marvellous  place,  and  at 
once  made  for  what  the  boys  called  the  throne  of  the 
fathers.  This  was  a  lordly  seat,  laid  as  to  its  foundation 
in  mediaeval  divines  of  ponderous  content,  but  excellently 
finished  with  the  Benedictine  edition  of  St.  Augustine, 
softened  by  two  cushions,  one  for  a  seat  and  another  for 
a  back.  Here  Carmichael  used  to  sit  in  great  content, 
smoking  and  listening  while  the  Rabbi  hunted  an  idea 


KILBOGIE    MANSE.  169 

through  Scripture  with  many  authorities,  or  defended  the 
wildest  Calvinism  with  strange,  learned  arguments ;  from 
this  place  he  would  watch  the  Rabbi  searching  for  a  lost 
note  on  some  passage  of  Holy  Writ  amid  a  pile  of  papers 
two  feet  deep,  through  which  he  burrowed  on  all  fours, 
or  climbing  for  a  book  on  the  sky-line,  to  forget  his 
errand  and  to  expound  some  point  of  doctrine  from  the 
top  of  the  ladder. 

"  You  're  comfortable,  John,  and  you  do  not  want  to 
put  off  your  boots  after  all  that  travelling  to  and  fro? 
then  I  will  search  for  Barbara,  and  secure  some  refresh- 
ment for  our  bodies,"  and  Carmichael  watched  the 
Rabbi  depart  with  pity,  for  he  was  going  on  a  troublous 
errand. 

Housekeepers  are,  after  beadles,  the  most  wonderful 
functionaries  in  the  ecclesiastical  life  of  Scotland,  and 
every  species  could  be  found  within  a  day's  journey  of 
Drumtochty.  Jenkins,  indeed,  suggested  that  a  series  of 
papers  on  Church  Institutions  read  at  the  clerical  club 
should  include  one  on  housekeepers,  and  offered  to  sup- 
ply the  want,  which  was  the  reason  why  Dr.  Dowbiggin 
refused  to  certify  him  to  a  vacancy,  speaking  of  him  as 
"  frivolous  and  irresponsible."  The  class  ranged  from 
Sarah  of  Drumtochty,  who  could  cook  and  knew  nothing 
about  ecclesiastical  affairs,  to  that  austere  damsel,  Marga- 
ret Meiklewham  of  Pitscowrie,  who  had  never  prepared 
an  appetising  meal  in  her  life,  but  might  have  sat  as  an 
elder  in  the  Presbytery. 

Among  all  her  class,  Barbara  MacCluckie  stood  an 
easy  worst,  being  the  most  incapable,  unsightly,  evil-tem- 
pered, vexatious  woman  into  whose  hands  an  unmarried 
man  had  ever  been  delivered.  MacWheep  had  his  own 
trials,  but  his  ruler  saw  that  he  had  sufficient  food  and 


1 7o  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

some  comfort,  but  Barbara  laid  herself  out  to  make  the 
Rabbi's  life  a  misery.  He  only  obtained  his  meals  as  a 
favour,  and  an  extra  blanket  had  to  be  won  by  a  week's 
abject  humiliation.  Fire  was  only  allowed  him  at  times, 
and  he  secured  oil  for  his  lamp  by  stratagems.  Latterly  he 
was  glad  to  send  strange  ministers  to  Mains,  and  his  boys 
alone  forced  lodgment  in  the  manse.  The  settlement  of 
Barbara  was  the  great  calamity  of  the  Rabbi's  life,  and 
was  the  doing  of  his  own  good  nature.  He  first  met  her 
when  she  came  to  the  manse  one  evening  to  discuss  the 
unlawfulness  of  infant  baptism  and  the  duty  of  holding 
Sunday  on  Saturday,  being  the  Jewish  Sabbath.  His  in- 
terest deepened  on  learning  that  she  had  been  driven 
from  twenty-nine  situations  through  the  persecution  of 
the  ungodly ;  and  on  her  assuring  him  that  she  had  heard 
a  voice  in  a  dream  bidding  her  take  charge  of  Kilbogie 
Manse,  the  Rabbi,  who  had  suffered  many  things  at  the 
hands  of  young  girls  given  to  lovers,  installed  Barbara, 
and  began  to  repent  that  very  day.  A  tall,  bony,  forbid- 
ding woman,  with  a  squint  and  a  nose  turning  red,  as  she 
stated,  from  chronic  indigestion,  let  it  be  said  for  her  that 
she  did  not  fall  into  the  sins  of  her  predecessors.  It  was 
indeed  a  pleasant  jest  in  Kilbogie  for  four  Sabbaths  that 
she  allowed  a  local  Romeo,  who  knew  not  that  his  Juliet 
was  gone,  to  make  his  adventurous  way  to  her  bedroom 
window,  and  then  showed  such  an  amazing  visage  that  he 
was  laid  up  for  a  week  through  the  suddenness  of  his  fall. 
What  the  Rabbi  endured  no  one  knew,  but  his  boys  un- 
derstood that  the  only  relief  he  had  from  Barbara's 
tyranny  was  on  Sabbath  evening,  when  she  stated  her  ob- 
jections to  the  doctrine,  and  threatened  henceforward  to 
walk  into  Muirtown  in  order  to  escape  from  unsound 
doctrine.  On  such  occasions  the  Rabbi  laid  himself  out 


KILBOGIE    MANSE. 


A   TALL,    BONY,    FORBIDDING    WOMAN. 

for  her  instruction  with  much  zest,  and  he  knew  when  he 
had  produced  an  impression,  for  then  he  went  supperless 
to  bed.  Between  this  militant  spirit  and  the  boys  there 


x/2  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

was  an  undying  feud,  and  Carmichael  was  not  at  all  hurt 
to  hear  her  frank  references  to  himself. 

"  What  need  he  come  stravagin'  doon  frae  Drumtochty 
for?  it  wud  set  him  better  tae  wait  on  his  ain  fouk.  A 
licht-headed  fellow,  they  say  as  kens;  an'  as  for  his 
doctrine — weel,  maybe  it  '11  dae  for  Drumtochty. 

"  Tea  ?  Did  ye  expect  me  tae  hae  biling  water  at  this 
'oor  o'  the  nicht?  My  word,  the  money  wud  flee  in  this 
hoose  gin  a'  wesna  here.  Milk  '11  dae  fine  for  yon 
birkie  :  he  micht  be  gled  tae  get  onything,  sorning  on  a 
respectable  manse  every  ither  week." 

"You  will  pardon  our  humble  provision"  —  this  is 
how  the  Rabbi  prepared  Carmichael ;  "  we  have  taken 
my  worthy  Abigail  unawares,  and  she  cannot  do  for  us 
what  in  other  circumstances  would  be  her  desire.  She 
has  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  which  troubles  her,  and  makes 
her  do  what  she  would  not ;  but  I  am  convinced  that  her 
heart  is  right." 

That  uncompromising  woman  took  no  notice  of  Drum- 
tochty, but  busied  herself  in  a  search  for  the  Rabbi's 
bag,  which  he  insisted  had  been  brought  home  from  Muir- 
town  that  morning,  and  which  was  at  last  found  covered 
with  books. 

"  Do  not  open  it  at  present,  Barbara ;  you  can  iden- 
tify the  contents  later  if  it  be  necessary,  but  I  am 
sure  they  are  all  right,"  and  the  Rabbi  watched  Barbara's 
investigations  with  evident  anxiety. 

"Maybe  ye  hae  brocht  back  what  ye  started  wi',  but 
gin  ye  hev,  it 's  the  first  time  a'  can  mind.  Laist  sacra- 
ment at  Edinburgh  ye  pickit  up  twal  books,  ae  clothes 
brush,  an'  a  crochet  cover  for  a  chair,  an'  left  a'thing 
that  belonged  tae  ye." 

"  It  was  an  inadvertence ;  but  I  obtained  a  drawer  for 


KILBOGIE   MANSE.  173 

my  own  use  this  time,  and  I  was  careful  to  pack  its  con- 
tents into  the  bag,  leaving  nothing."  But  the  Rabbi  did 
not  seem  over-confident. 

"  There  's  nae  question  that  ye  hev  filled  the  pack," 
said  Barbara,  with  much  deliberation  and  an  ominous 
calmness ;  "  but  whether  wi'  yir  ain  gear  or  some  ither 
body's,  a  '11  leave  ye  tae  judge  yirsel'.  A  '11  juist  empty 
the  bag  on  the  bukes ;"  and  Barbara  selected  a  bank  of 
Puritans  for  the  display  of  her  master's  spoil. 

"Ae  slipbody  (bodice),  well  hemmed  and  gude  stuff 
—  ye  didna  tak'  that  wi'  ye,  at  ony  rate  ;  twa  pillow 
slips — they  '11  come  in  handy,  oor  ain  are  wearin'  thin  ; 
ae  pair  o'  sheets  —  '11  juist  dae  for  the  next  trimmie  that 
ye  want  tae  set  up  in  her  hoose ;  this  '11  be  a  bolster 
slip,  a  'm  judgin'  - 

"  It  must  be  the  work  of  Satan,"  cried  the  poor 
Rabbi,  who  constantly  saw  the  hand  of  the  great  enemy 
in  the  disorder  of  his  study.  "  I  cannot  believe  that  my 
hands  packed  such  garments  in  place  of  my  own." 

"  Ye  '11  be  satisfied  when  ye  read  the  name ;  it 's 
plain  eneuch ;  ye  needna  gang  dodderin'  aboot  here  and 
there  lookin'  for  yir  glasses ;  there  's  twa  pair  on  your 
head  already;  "  for  it  was  an  hour  of  triumph  to  Bar- 
bara's genial  soul. 

"  It 's  beyond  understanding,"  murmured  the  Rabbi. 
"  I  must  have  mistaken  one  drawer  for  another  in  the 
midst  of  meditation ; "  and  then,  when  Barbara  had 
swept  out  of  the  room  with  the  varied  linen  on  her  arm, 
"  this  is  very  humiliating,  John,  and  hard  to  bear." 

"  Nonsense,  Rabbi ;  it 's  one  of  the  finest  things  you 
have  ever  done.  Half  a  dozen  journeys  of  that  kind 
would  refurnish  the  manse ;  it 's  just  a  pity  you  can't 
annex  a  chair ;  "  but  he  saw  that  the  good  man  was 
sorely  vexed. 


174  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"You  are  a  good  lad,  John,  and  it  is  truly  marvellous 
what  charity  I  have  received  at  the  hands  of  young  men 
who  might  have  scorned  and  mocked  me.  God  knows 
how  my  heart  has  been  failed  with  gratitude,  and  I  ... 
have  mentioned  your  names  in  my  unworthy  prayers 
that  God  may  do  to  you  all  according  to  the  kindness  ye 
have  shown  unto  me." 

It  was  plain  that  this  lonely,  silent  man  was  much 
moved,  and  Carmichael  did  not  speak. 

"  People  consider  that  I  am  ignorant  of  my  failings 
and  weaknesses,  and  I  can  bear  witness  with  a  clear  con- 
science that  I  am  not  angry  when  they  smile  and  nod  the 
head ;  why  should  I  be  ?  But,  John,  it  is  known  to  my- 
self only  and  Him  before  whom  all  hearts  are  open  how 
great  is  my  suffering  in  being  among  my  neighbours  as  a 
sparrow  upon  the  housetop. 

"  May  you  never  know,  John,  what  it  is  to  live  alone 
and  friendless  till  you  lose  the  ways  of  other  men  and 
retire  within  yourself,  looking  out  on  the  multitude  pass- 
ing on  the  road  as  a  hermit  from  his  cell,  and  knowing 
that  some  day  you  will  die  alone,  with  none  to  ...  give 
you  a  draught  of  water." 

"  Rabbi,  Rabbi  "  —  for  Carmichael  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed at  the  woe  in  the  face  opposite  him,  and  his 
heart  was  tender  that  night  —  "  why  should  you  have 
lived  like  that?  Do  not  be  angry,  but  .  .  .  did  God 
intend  ...  it  cannot  be  wrong  ...  I  mean  .  .  . 
God  did  give  Eve  to  Adam." 

"  Laddie,  why  do  ye  speak  with  fear  and  a  faltering 
voice  ?  Did  I  say  aught  against  that  gracious  gift  or  the 
holy  mystery  of  love,  which  is  surely  the  sign  of  the 
union  betwixt  God  and  the  soul,  as  is  set  forth  after  a 
mystical  shape  in  the  Song  of  Songs  ?  But  it  was  not  for 


KILBOGIE  MANSE.  175 

me  —  no,  not  for  me.  I  complain  not,  neither  have  I 
vexed  my  soul.  He  doeth  all  things  well." 

"  But,  dear  Rabbi "  —  and  Carmichael  hesitated,  not 
knowing  where  he  stood. 

"  Ye  ask  me  why"  —  the  Rabbi  anticipated  the  ques- 
tion —  "  and  I  will  tell  you  plainly,  for  my  heart  has  ever 
gone  forth  to  you.  For  long  years  I  found  no  favour  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Church,  and  it  seemed  likely  I  would  be 
rejected  from  the  ministry  as  a  man  useless  and  unprofit- 
able. How  could  I  attempt  to  win  the  love  of  any 
maiden,  since  it  did  not  appear  to  be  the  will  of  God 
that  I  should  ever  have  a  place  of  habitation  ?  It  con- 
sisted not  with  honour,  for  I  do  hold  firmly  that  no  man 
hath  any  right  to  seek  unto  himself  a  wife  till  he  have  a 
home." 

"  But  ...  " 

"Afterwards,  you  would  say.  Ah,  John,  then  had  I 
become  old  and  unsightly,  not  such  a  one  as  women 
could  care  for.  It  would  have  been  cruel  to  tie  a  maid 
for  life  to  one  who  might  only  be  forty  years  in  age,  but 
was  as  seventy  in  his  pilgrimage,  and  had  fallen  into 
unlovely  habits." 

Then  the  Rabbi  turned  on  Carmichael  his  gentle  eyes, 
that  were  shining  with  tears. 

"  It  will  be  othenvise  with  you,  and  so  let  it  be.  May 
I  live  to  see  you  rejoicing  with  the  wife  of  your  youth." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  it  was  to  this  unlikely  man 
Carmichael  told  his  new-born  love,  and  he  was  amazed  at 
the  understanding  of  the  Rabbi,  as  well  as  his  sympathy 
and  toleration. 

"  A  maid  of  spirit  —  and  that  is  an  excellent  thing ; 
and  any  excess  will  be  tamed  by  life.  Only  see  to  it 
that  ye  agree  in  that  which  lieth  beneath  all  churches 


i76  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

and  maketh  souls  one  in  God.  May  He  prosper  you 
in  your  wooing  as  He  did  the  patriarch  Jacob,  and  far 
more  abundantly." 

Very  early  in  the  morning  Carmichael  awoke,  and  be- 
ing tempted  by  the  sunrise,  arose  and  went  downstairs. 
As  he  came  near  the  study  door  he  heard  a  voice  in 
prayer,  and  knew  that  the  Rabbi  had  been  all  night  in 
intercession. 

"  Thou  hast  denied  me  wife  and  child ;  deny  me  not 
Thyself.  ...  A  stranger  Thou  hast  made  me  among 
men;  refuse  me  not  a  place  in  the  City.  .  .  .  Deal 
graciously  with  this  lad  who  has  been  to  me  as  a  son  in 
the  Gospel.  .  .  .  He  has  not  despised  an  old  man ; 
put  not  his  heart  to  confusion.  .  .  ." 

Carmichael  crept  upstairs  again,  but  not  to  sleep,  and 
at  breakfast  he  pledged  the  Rabbi  to  come  up  some  day 
and  see  Kate  Carnegie. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

PREPARING    FOR    THE    SACRAMENT. 

NGLISH  folk  have  vari- 
ous festivals  in  the  relig- 
ious year,  as  becometh  a 
generous  country,  but  in 
our  austere  and  thrifty 
Glen  there  was  only  one 
high  day,  and  that  was 
Sacrament  Sabbath.  It  is 
rumoured  —  but  one  prefers  not 
to  believe  scandals  —  that  the 
Scottish  Kirk  nowadays  is  en- 
couraging a  monthly  Sacrament, 
after  which  nothing  remains  in 
the  way  of  historical  declension  except  for  people  to 
remain  for  the  Sacrament  as  it  may  occur  to  them,  and 
for  men  like  Drumsheugh  to  get  up  at  meetings  to  give 
their  religious  experiences,  when  every  one  that  has  any 
understanding  will  know  that  the  reserve  has  gone  out  of 
Scottish  character,  and  the  reverence  from  Scottish  faith. 
Dr.  Davidson's  successor,  a  boisterous  young  man  of 
bourgeois  manners,  elected  by  popular  vote,  has  got 
guilds,  where  Hillocks'  granddaughter  reads  papers  on 
Emerson  and  refers  to  the  Free  Kirk  people  as  Dissen- 
ters, but  things  were  different  in  the  old  days  before  the 
Revolution.  The  Doctor  had  such  unquestioning  con- 
.12 


178  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

fidence  in  himself  that  he  considered  his  very  presence  a 
sufficient  defence  for  the  Kirk,  and  was  of  such  perfect 
breeding  that  he  regarded  other  Kirks  with  unbroken 
charity.  He  was  not  the  man  to  weary  the  parish  with 
fussy  little  schemes,  and  he  knew  better  than  level  down 
the  Sacrament.  It  was  the  summit  of  the  year  to  which  the 
days  climbed,  from  which  they  fell  away,  and  it  was  held 
in  the  middle  of  August.  Then  nature  was  at  her  height 
in  the  Glen,  and  had  given  us  of  her  fulness.  The 
barley  was  golden,  and,  rustling  in  the  gentle  wind, 
wearied  for  the  scythe ;  the  oats  were  changing  daily, 
and  had  only  so  much  greenness  as  would  keep  the 
feathery  heads  firm  for  the  handling ;  the  potatoes  having 
received  the  last  touch  of  the  plough,  were  well  banked 
up  and  flowering  pleasantly ;  the  turnips,  in  fine  levels, 
like  Hillocks',  or  gently  sloping  fields,  like  Menzies', 
were  so  luxuriant  that  a  mere  townsman  could  not 
have  told  the  direction  of  the  drills ;  the  hay  had  been 
gathered  into  long  stacks  like  unto  the  shape  of  a  two- 
storied  house,  and  the  fresh  aftermath  on  the  field  was 
yielding  sweet  morsels  for  the  horses  of  an  evening ;  the 
pasture  was  rich  with  the  hardy  white  clover,  and  one 
could  hear  from  the  road  the  cattle  taking  full  mouthfuls ; 
young  spring  animals,  like  calves  and  lambs,  were  now 
falling  into  shape  and  beginning  independent  life,  though 
with  an  occasional  hankering  after  the  past,  when  the 
lambs  would  fall  a-bleating  for  their  mothers,  and  calves 
would  hang  about  the  gate  at  evening,  where  they  had 
often  fought  shamelessly  to  get  a  frothy  nose  once  more 
into  the  milk- pail. 

Our  little  gardens  were  full  a-blow,  a  very  blaze  and 
maze  of  colour  and  foliage,  wherein  the  owner  wandered 
of  an  evening  examining  flowers  and  fruit  with  many  and 


PREPARING    FOR   THE   SACRAMENT.      179 

prolonged  speculations  —  much  aided  by  the  smoke  of 
tobacco  —  as  to  the  chance  of  gaining  a  second  at  our 
horticultural  show  with  his  stocks,  or  honourable  mention 


GATHERING    HER    BERRY    HARVEST. 

for  a  dish  of  mixed  fruit.  The  good  wife  might  be  seen 
of  an  afternoon  about  that  time,  in  a  sun-bonnet  and  a 
gown  carefully  tucked  up,  gathering  her  berry  harvest  for 
preserves,  with  two  young  assistants,  who  worked  at  a 


i8o  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

modest  distance  from  their  mother,  very  black  as  to 
their  mouths,  and  preserving  the  currants,  as  they 
plucked  them,  by  an  instantaneous  process  of  their  own 
invention.  Next  afternoon  a  tempting  fragrance  of  boil- 
ing sugar  would  make  one's  mouth  water  as  he  passed, 
and  the  same  assistants,  never  weary  in  well-doing, 
might  be  seen  setting  saucers  of  black  jam  upon  the 
window-sill  to  "jeel,"  and  receiving,  as  a  kind  of  black- 
mail, another  saucerful  of  "  skim,"  which,  I  am  informed, 
is  really  the  refuse  of  the  sugar,  but,  for  all  that,  wonderfully 
toothsome.  Bear  with  a  countryman's  petty  foolishness, 
ye  mighty  people  who  live  in  cities,  and  whose  dainties 
come  from  huge  manufactories.  Some  man  reading 
these  pages  will  remember  that  red-letter  day  of  the 
summer-time  long  ago,  and  the  faithful  hands  that 
plucked  the  fruit,  and  the  old  kitchen,  with  its  open 
beams,  and  the  peat  fire  glowing  red,  and  the  iron  arm 
that  held  the  copper-lined  pan  —  much  lent  round  the 
district  —  and  the  smack  of  the  hot,  sweet  berries,  more 
grateful  than  any  banquet  of  later  days. 

The  bees  worked  hard  in  this  time  of  affluence,  and 
came  staggering  home  with  spoil  from  the  hills,  but  it  was 
holiday  season  on  the  farms.  Between  the  last  labours 
on  the  roots  and  the  beginning  of  harvest  there  was  no 
exacting  demand  from  the  land,  and  managing  farmers 
invented  tasks  to  fill  up  the  hours.  An  effort  was  made 
to  restore  carts  and  implements  to  their  original  colour, 
which  was  abruptly  interrupted  by  the  first  day  of  cut- 
ting, so  that  one  was  not  surprised  to  see  a  harvest  cart 
blue  on  one  side  and  a  rich  crusted  brown  on  the  other. 
Drumsheugh  would  even  send  his  men  to  road- making, 
and  apologise  to  the  neighbours  —  "  juist  reddin'  up  aboot 
the  doors  "  —  while  Saunders  the  foreman  and  his  staff 


PREPARING  FOR  THE   SACRAMENT.      181 

laboured  in  a  shamefaced  manner  like  grown-ups  playing 
at  a  children's  game.  Hillocks  used  to  talk  vaguely 
about  going  to  see  a  married  sister  in  Glasgow,  and  one 
year  got  as  far  as  Kildrummie,  where  he  met  Piggie 
Walker,  and  returned  to  have  a  deal  in  potatoes  with 
that  enterprising  man.  More  than  once  Drumsheugh  — 
but  then  his  position  was  acknowledged  —  set  off  on  the 
Monday  for  Carnoustie  with  a  large  carpet  bag  contain- 
ing, among  other  things,  two  pounds  of  butter  and  two 
dozen  eggs,  and  announced  his  intention  of  spending  a 
fortnight  at  the  "  saut  water."  The  kirkyard  would  bid 
him  good-bye,  and  give  him  a  united  guarantee  that 
Sabbath  would  be  kept  at  Drumtochty  during  his  ab- 
sence, but  the  fathers  were  never  astonished  to  see  the 
great  man  drop  into  Muirtown  market  next  Friday  on  his 
way  west  —  having  found  four  days  of  unrelieved  gaiety 
at  that  Scottish  Monaco  enough  for  flesh  and  blood. 

This  season  of  small  affairs  was  redeemed  by  the 
Sacrament,  and  preparations  began  far  off  with  the 
cleaning  of  the  kirk.  As  early  as  June  our  beadle  had 
the  face  of  one  with  something  on  his  mind,  and  de- 
clined to  pledge  himself  for  roups  of  standing  corn, 
where  his  presence  was  much  valued,  not  on  business 
grounds,  but  as  an  official  sanction  of  the  proceedings. 
Drumtochty  always  felt  that  Dr.  Davidson  was  fully  re- 
presented by  his  man,  and  John  could  no  longer  disen- 
tangle the  two  in  his  own  mind  —  taking  a  gloomy  view 
of  the  parish  when  he  was  laid  up  by  lumbago  and  the 
Doctor  had  to  struggle  on  single-handed,  and  regarding 
the  future  when  both  would  be  gone  with  despair. 

"  Ay,  ay,  Hillocks,"  he  once  remarked  to  that  worthy, 
"  this  '11  be  a  queer-like  place  when  me  an'  the  Doctor  's 
awa'. 


1 82  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Na,  na,  a'  daurna  promise  for  the  roup,  but  ye  can 
cairry  it  on  whether  a  'm  there  or  no  ;  prices  dinna  hang 
on  a  beadle,  and  they  're  far  mair  than  appearances. 
A'm  juist  beginning  tae  plan  the  reddin'  up  for  the 
Saicrament,  an'  a've  nae  speerit  for  pleesure  ;  divye  ken, 
Hillocks,  a'  vvud  actually  coont  a  funeral  distrackin'." 

"  Ye  hev  an  awfu'  responsibility,  there  's  nae  doot  o' 
that,  John,  but  gin  ye  juist  jined  the  fouk  for  ae  field,  it 
wud  be  an  affset  tae  the  day,  an'  the  auctioneer  wud  be 
lifted." 

With  the  beginning  of  July,  John  fairly  broke  ground 
in  the  great  effort,  and  was  engaged  thereon  for  six  weeks, 
beginning  with  the  dusting  of  the  pulpit  and  concluding 
with  the  beating  of  Drumsheugh's  cushion.  During  that 
time  the  Doctor  only  suggested  his  wants  to  John,  and 
the  fathers  themselves  trembled  of  a  Sabbath  morning  lest 
in  a  moment  of  forgetfulness  they  might  carry  in  some 
trace  of  their  farms  with  them  and  mar  the  great  work. 
It  was  pretty  to  see  Whinnie  labouring  at  his  feet  in  a 
grassy  corner,  while  John  watched  him  from  the  kirk 
door  with  an  unrelenting  countenance. 

The  elders  also  had  what  might  be  called  their  clean- 
ing at  this  season,  examining  into  the  cases  of  any  who 
had  made  a  "  mistak*  "  since  last  August,  and  decid- 
ing whether  they  should  be  allowed  to  "gang  forrit." 
These  deliberations  were  begun  at  the  door,  where  Drum- 
sheugh  and  Domsie  stood  the  last  five  minutes  before 
the  Doctor  appeared,  and  were  open  to  the  congrega- 
tion, who  from  their  places  within  learned  the  offenders' 
prospects. 

"  The  Doctor  '11  dae  as  he  considers  richt,  an'  he  's 
juist  ower  easy  pleased  vvi'  onybody  'at  starts  a-greetin', 
but  yon  's  ma  jidgment,  Dominie." 


PREPARING    FOR   THE   SACRAMENT.      183 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  dispute  with  you,  Drumsheugh  "  — 
Domsie  always  spoke  English  on  such  occasions  —  "  and 
the  power  of  the  keys  is  a  solemn  charge.  But  we 
must  temper  a  just  measure  of  severity  with  a  spirit  of 
mercy." 

"  Ye  may  temper  this  or  temper  that,"  said  Drum- 
sheugh, going  to  the  root  of  the  matter,  "  but  a'  tell  ye, 
Dominie,  there 's  ower  mony  o'  thae  limmers  in  the 
country  juist  noo,  an'  a  'm  for  making  an  example  o' 
Jean  Ferguson." 

So  Jean  did  not  present  herself  for  a  token  on  the 
approaching  Fast-day,  and  sat  out  with  the- children  dur- 
ing the  Sacrament  with  as  becoming  an  expression  of 
penitence  as  her  honest,  comely  face  could  accomplish. 
Nor  did  Jean  or  her  people  bear  any  grudge  against  the 
Doctor  or  the  Session  for  their  severity.  She  had  gone 
of  her  own  accord  to  confess  her  fault,  and  was  willing 
that  her  process  of  cleansing  should  be  thorough  before 
she  received  absolution.  When  a  companion  in  misfor- 
tune spoke  of  the  greater  leniency  of  Pitscowrie,  Jean 
expressed  her  thankfulness  that  she  was  of  Drumtochty. 

"  Nane  o'  yir  loose  wys  for  me  —  gie  me  a  richt  minis- 
ter as  dis  his  duty ;  "  which  showed  that  whatever  might 
be  her  deflections  in  practice,  Jean's  ideas  of  morals 
were  sound. 

Preparations  in  the  parish  at  large  began  two  weeks 
before  the  Sacrament,  when  persons  whose  attendance 
had  been,  to  say  the  least,  irregular  slipped  in  among  the 
fathers  without  ostentation,  and  dropping  into  a  conver- 
sation on  the  weather,  continued,  as  it  were,  from  last 
Sabbath,  used  it  skilfully  to  offer  an  apology  for  past 
failures  in  church  observance. 

"  It 's  keepit  up  wonderfu'  through  the  week,  for  aJ 


1 84  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

never  like  ower  bricht  mornin's,"  old  Sandie  Ferguson 
would  remark  casually,  whose  arrival,  swallow-like, 
heralded  the  approach  of  the  great  occasion.  "  The 
roads  are  graund  the  noo  frae  the  heich  (high  glen)  ; 
we  've  hed  an  awfu'  winter,  neeburs,  up  oor  vvy  —  clean 
blockit  up.  Them  'at  lives  ablow  are  michty  favoured, 
wi'  the  kirk  at  their  door." 

"  It 's  maist  extraordinar'  hoo  the  seasons  are  changin'  " 
—  Jamie  Soutar  could  never  resist  Sandie's  effrontery  — 
"  A'  mind  when  Mairch  saw  the  end  o'  the  snow,  an' 
noo  winter  is  hangin'  aboot  in  midsummer.  A'm  ex- 
peckin'  tae  hear,  in  another  five  year,  that  the  drifts  last 
through  the  Sacrament  in  August.  It  '11  be  a  sair  trial 
for  ye,  Sandie,  a  wullin'  kirkgoer  —  but  ye  '11  hae  the 
less  responsibility." 

"  Millhole  's  here,  at  ony  rate,  the  day,  an'  we  're  gled 
tae  see  him" — for  Drumsheugh's  pride  was  to  have 
a  large  Sacrament  —  and  so  Sandie  would  take  his  place 
at  an  angle  to  catch  the  Doctor's  eye,  and  pay  such  rapt 
attention  to  the  sermon  that  any  one  not  knowing  the 
circumstances  might  have  supposed  that  he  had  just 
awaked  from  sleep. 

Ploughmen  who  on  other  Sabbaths  slept  in  the  fore- 
noon and  visited  their  sweethearts  the  rest  of  the  day, 
presented  themselves  for  tokens  on  the  Fast-day,  and 
made  the  one  elaborate  toilette  of  the  year  on  Saturday 
evening,  when  they  shaved  in  turns  before  a  scrap  of 
glass  hung  outside  the  bothy  door,  and  the  foreman, 
skilled  in  the  clipping  of  horses,  cut  their  hair,  utilising  a 
porridge  bowl  with  much  ingenuity  to  secure  a  round  cut. 
They  left  early  on  the  Sabbath  morning,  and  formed 
themselves  into  a  group  against  the  gable  of  the  kirk,  — 
being  reviewed  with  much  satisfaction  by  Drumsheugh, 


PREPARING  FOR  THE   SACRAMENT.     185 

who  had  a  keen  eye  for  absentees  from  the  religious  func- 
tion of  the  year.  At  the  first  sound  of  the  bell  the  plough- 
men went  into  kirk  a  solid  mass,  distributing  themselves  in 
the  servants'  pews  attached  to  the  farmers'  pews,  and  main- 
taining an  immovable  countenance  through  every  part  of 
the  service,  any  tendency  to  somnolence  being  promptly 
and  effectually  checked  by  the  foreman,  who  allowed  him- 
self some  ease  when  alone  on  other  days,  but  on  Sacrament 
Sabbath  realised  his  charge  and  never  closed  an  eye.  The 
women  and  children  proceeded  to  their  places  on  arrival, 
and  the  fathers  followed  them  as  the  bell  gave  signs  of 
ceasing.  Drumsheugh  and  Domsie  then  came  in  from 
the  plate  and  the  administration  of  discipline,  and  the 
parish  waited  as  one  man  for  the  appearance  of  John  with 
the  Bible,  the  Doctor  following,  and  envied  those  whose 
seat  commanded  the  walk  from  the  manse  down  which 
the  procession  came  every  Sabbath  with  dignity,  but  once 
a  year  with  an  altogether  peculiar  majesty. 

Drumtochty  exiles  meeting  in  London  or  other  foreign 
places  and  recalling  the  Glen,  never  part  without  lighting 
on  John  and  passing  contempt  on  all  officials  beside  him. 
"Ye  mind  John?"  one  will  say,  wagging  his  head  with 
an  amazement  that  time  and  distance  has  in  no  wise 
cooled,  and  his  fellow  glensman  will  reply,  "Ay,  ye 
may  traivel  the  warld  ower  or  ye  see  his  marrow." 
Then  they  will  fall  into  a  thoughtful  silence,  and  each 
knows  that  his  neighbour  is  following  John  as  he  comes 
down  the  kirkyard  on  the  great  day.  "  Comin'  in  at  the 
door  lookin'  as  if  he  didna  ken  there  wes  a  body  in  the 
kirk,  a'  aye  coontit  best,"  but  his  friend  has  another 
preference.  "  It  wes  fine,  but,  man,  tae  see  him  set  the 
bukes  doon  on  the  pulpit  cushion,  and  then  juist  gie  ae 
glisk  roond  the  kirk  as  much  as  tae  say,  'What  think  ye 


1 86  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

o'that?'  cowed  a' thing."  It  has  been  given  to  myself 
amid  other  privileges  to  see  (and  store  in  a  fond 
memory)  the  walk  of  a  University  mace-bearer,  a  piper  at 
the  Highland  gathering,  a  German  stationmaster  (after 
the  war),  and  an  alderman  (of  the  old  school),  but  it  is 
bare  justice  to  admit,  although  I  am  not  of  Drumtochty, 
but  only  as  a  proselyte  of  the  gate,  that  none  of  those 
efforts  is  at  all  to  be  compared  with  John's  achievement. 
Within  the  manse  the  Doctor  was  waiting  in  pulpit  array, 
grasping  his  father's  snuff-box  in  a  firm  right  hand,  and  it 
was  understood  that,  none  seeing  them,  and  as  a  prepara- 
tion for  the  strain  that  would  immediately  be  upon  them, 
both  the  minister  and  his  man  relaxed  for  a  minute. 

"Is  there  a  respectable  attendance,  John ?"  and  the 
Doctor  would  take  a  preliminary  pinch.  "  Drumsheugh 
does  not  expect  many  absentees." 

"  Naebody  's  missin'  that  a'  cud  see,  sir,  except  that 
ill  gettit  wratch,  Tammie  Ronaldson,  and  a'  coont  him 
past  redemption.  A'  gaed  in  as  a'  cam  doon,  and  gin 
he  wesna  lyin'  in  his  bed  sleepin'  an'  snorin'  like  a 
heathen." 

"  Well,  John,  did  you  do  your  duty  as  an  officer  of  the 
church?" 

"A'  stood  ower  him,  Doctor,  an"  a'  juist  said  tae 
masel',  'Shall  a'  smite  wi'  the  sword?'  but  a'  left  him 
alane  for  this  time."  And  so  they  started  —  John  in  front 
with  the  books,  and  the  Doctor  a  pace  behind,  his  box 
now  in  the  left  hand,  with  a  handkerchief  added,  and  the 
other  holding  up  his  gown,  both  dignitaries  bare-headed, 
unself-conscious,  absorbed  in  their  office. 

The  books  were  carried  level  with  the  top  button  of 
John's  waistcoat  —  the  Psalm-book  being  held  in  its 
place  by  the  two  extended  thumbs  —  and  neither  were 


PREPARING    FOR   THE    SACRAMENT.      187 

allowed  to  depart  from  the  absolute  horizontal  by  an 
eighth  of  an  inch,  even  going  up  the  pulpit  stairs.  When 
they  had  been  deposited  in  their  place,  and  slightly 
.patted,  just  to  settle  them,  John  descended  to  make  way 
for  the  Doctor,  who  had  been  waiting  beneath  in  a  com- 
manding attitude.  He  then  followed  the  minister  up, 
and  closed  the  door  —  not  with  a  bang,  but  yet  so  that 
all  might  know  he  had  finished  his  part  of  the  work.  If 
any  one  had  doubted  how  much  skill  went  to  this 
achievement,  he  had  his  eyes  opened  when  John  had  the 
lumbago,  and  the  smith  arrived  at  the  kirk  door  three 
yards  ahead  of  the  Doctor,  and  let  the  Psalm-book  fall  on 
the  pulpit  floor. 

"  We  're  thankfu'  tae  hae  ye  back,  John,"  said  Hillocks. 
"  Yon  wes  a  temptin'  o'  Providence." 

Once  only  had  I  the  privilege  of  seeing  John  in  this  his 
glory,  and  the  sight  of  him  afflicted  me  with  a  problem  no 
one  has  ever  solved.  It  might,  indeed,  be  made  a  branch 
of  scientific  investigation,  and  would  then  be  called  the 
Genesis  of  Beadles.  Was  a  beadle  ever  a  baby  ?  What 
like  was  he  before  he  appeared  in  his  office?  Was  he 
lying  as  a  cardinal  in  petto  till  the  right  moment,  and 
then  simply  showed  himself  to  be  appointed  as  one  bora 
unto  this  end  ?  No  one  dared  to  hint  that  John  had 
ever  followed  any  other  avocation,  and  an  effort  to  con- 
nect John  with  the  honourable  trade  of  plumbing  in  the 
far  past  was  justly  regarded  as  a  disgraceful  return  of  Tam- 
mie  Ronaldson's  for  much  faithful  dealing.  Drumtochty 
refused  to  consider  his  previous  history,  if  he  had  any, 
and  looked  on  John  in  his  office  as  a  kind  of  Melchizedek, 
a  mysterious,  isolated  work  of  Providence. 

He  was  a  mere  wisp  of  a  man,  with  a  hard,  keen  face, 
iron-grey  hair  brushed  low  across  his  forehead,  and  clean- 
shaven cheeks. 


1 88 


KATE   CARNEGIE. 


"  A  Ve  naething  tae  say  against  a  beard,"  on  being 
once  consulted,  "  an'  a  'm  no  prepared  tae  deny  it  maun 

be  in  the  plan  o'  Provid- 
ence. In  fact,  gin  a'  wes 
in  a  private  capaucity,  a' 
michtna  shave,  but  in  ma 
public  capaucity,  a  Ve  nae 
alternative.  It  wud  be  a 
fine  story  tae  gang  roond 
the  Presbytery  o'  Muirtovvn 
that  the  Beadle  o'  Drum- 
tochty  hed  a  beard." 

His  authority  was  su- 
preme under  the  Doctor, 
and  never  was  disputed  by 
man  or  beast  save  once, 
and  John  himself  admitted 
that  the  circumstances 
were  quite  peculiar.  It 
was  during  the  Doctor's 
famous  continental  tour, 
when  Drumsheugh  fought 
with  strange  names  in  the 
kirkyard,  and  the  Presby- 
tery supplied  Drumtochty 
in  turn.  The  minister  of 
St.  David's,  Muirtown,  was 
so  spiritual  that  he  left  his 
voice  at  the  foot  of  the  pul- 
pit stairs,  and  lived  in  the  Song  of  Solomon,  with  occa- 
sional excursions  into  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah,  and 
it  was  thoughtless  not  to  have  told  Mr.  Curlew  that  two  or 
three  clogs — of  unexceptionable  manners — attended  our 


HE   WAS   A    MERE   WISP   OF 
A    MAN. 


PREPARING   FOR  THE   SACRAMENT.      189 

kirk  with  their  masters.  They  would  no  more  have 
thought  of  brawling  in  church  than  John  himself,  and 
they  knew  the  parts  of  the  service  as  well  as  the  Doctor, 
but  dogs  have  been  so  made  by  our  common  Creator 
that  they  cannot  abide  falsetto,  and  Mr.  Curlew  tried 
them  beyond  endurance.  When  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
in  "  Return,  return,  O  Shulamite,  return,  return,"  a  long 
wail  in  reply,  from  below  a  back  seat  where  a  shep- 
herd was  slumbering,  proclaimed  that  his  appeal  had 
not  altogether  failed.  "Put  out  that  dog,"  said  the 
preacher  in  a  very  natural  voice,  with  a  strong  suggestion 
of  bad  temper,  "  put  that  dog  out  immediately ;  it 's 
most  disgraceful  that  such  .  .  .  eh,  conduct  should  go 
on  in  a  Christian  church.  Where  is  the  church  officer?  " 

"A'm  the  Beadle  o'  Drumtochty  "  —  standing  in  his 
place  —  "an*  a '11  dae  yir  pleesure ;  "  and  the  occasion 
was  too  awful  for  any  one,  even  the  dog's  master,  to 
assist,  far  less  to  laugh. 

So  Laddie  was  conducted  down  the  passage  —  a  dog 
who  would  not  condescend  to  resist  —  and  led  to  the 
outer  gate  of  the  kirkyard,  and  John  came  in  amid  a 
dead  silence  —  for  Mr.  Curlew  had  not  yet  got  his  pulpit 
note  again  —  and  faced  the  preacher. 

"  The  dog 's  oot,  sir,  but  a'  tak  this  congregation  tae 
witness,  ye  begood  (began)  it  yirseP,  "  and  it  was  said 
that  Mr.  Curlew's  pious  and  edifying  chant  was  greatly 
restricted  in  country  kirks  from  that  day. 

It  was  not  given  to  the  beadle  to  sit  with  the  elders  in 
that  famous  court  of  morals  which  is  called  the  Kirk 
Session,  and  of  which  strange  stories  are  told  by  Southern 
historians,  but  it  was  his  to  show  out  and  in  the  culprits 
with  much  solemnity.  He  was  able  to  denote  the  exact 
offence  in  the  language  of  Kirk  law,  and  was  considered 


i9o  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

happy  in  his  abbreviations  for  technical  terms.  As  a 
familiar  of  the  Inquisition,  he  took  oversight  of  the  dis- 
trict, and  saw  that  none  escaped  the  wholesome  discipline 
of  the  Church. 

"  Ye  're  back,"  he  said,  arresting  Peter  Ferguson  as  he 
tried  to  escape  down  a  byroad,  and  eyeing  the  prodigal 
sternly,  who  had  fled  from  discipline  to  London,  and  there 
lost  a  leg ;  "  the'  '11  be  a  meetin'  o'  Session  next  week  afore 
the  Saicrament ;  wull  a'  tell  the  Doctor  ye  're  comin'  ?  " 

"  No,  ye  '11  dae  naething  o'  the  kind,  for  a  '11  no  be 
there.  A  've  nae  suner  got  name  aifter  ma  accident  but 
ye  're  tormentin'  me  on  the  verra  road  wi'  yir  Session. 
Ye  drave  me  awa'  aince,  an'  noo  ye  wud  harry  (hunt) 
me  aff  again." 

"A  weel,  a  weel  "  —and  John  was  quite  calm  — 
"dinna  pit  yirsel'  in  a  feery  farry  (excitement)  ;  ye  '11  gang 
yir  ain  wy  and  earn  yir  ain  jidgment.  It  wes  for  yir  gude 
a'  spoke,  and  noo  a  've  dune  ma  pairt,  an'  whatever  comes 
o't,  ye  '11  no  hae  me  or  ony  ither  body  tae  blame." 

"  What  think  ye  '11  happen?  "  —  evidently  sobered  by 
John's  tone,  yet  keeping  up  a  show  of  defiance.  "  Ye 
wud  think  the  Session  wes  the  Sheriff  o'  Perthshire  tae 
hear  ye  blawin'  and  threatenin'." 

"  It 's  no  for  me  tae  say  what  may  befa'  ye,  Peter 
Ferguson,  for  a  'm  no  yir  jidge,  but  juist  'a  frail  mortal, 
beadle  though  I  be ;  but  a'  may  hev  ma  thochts. 

"  Ye  refused  the  summons  sax  month  syne,  and  took 
yir  wys  tae  London  —  that  wes  contumacy  added  tae  yir 
ither  sin.  Nae  doot  ye  made  certain  ye  hed  escapit,  but 
hed  ye?  A'  leave  it  tae  yirsel',  for  the  answer  is  in  yir 
body,"  and  John  examined  Peter's  wooden  leg  with  an 
austere  interest. 

"Ay,  ay,  ma  man,"  he  resumed  —  for  Peter  was  now 


PREPARING    FOR   THE   SACRAMENT.      191 

quite  silenced  by  this  uncompromising  interpretation  of 
the  ways  of  Providence  —  "  ye  aff  tae  London,  an'  the 
Lord  aifter  ye,  an'  whuppit  aff  ae  leg.  Noo  ye  declare  ye  '11 
be  as  countermacious  as  ever,  an'  a  'm  expeckin'  the  Lord 
'11  come  doon  here  an'  tak  the  ither  leg,  an'  gin  that  disna 
dae,  a'  that  remains  is  tae  stairt  on  yir  airms ;  and,  man 
Peter,  ye  '11  be  a  bonnie-like  sicht  before  a'  's  dune." 

This  was  very  faithful  dealing,  and  it  had  its  desired  effect, 
for  Peter  appeared  at  next  meeting,  and  in  due  course 
was  absolved,  as  became  an  obedient  son  of  the  Church. 

John  did  not,  however,  always  carry  the  sword,  but 
bore  himself  gently  to  young  people  so  long  as  they  did 
not  misbehave  in  church,  and  he  had  a  very  tender  heart 
toward  probationers,  as  being  callow  members  of  that  great 
ecclesiastical  guild  in  which  he  was  one  of  the  heads. 

When  one  of  those  innocents  came  to  take  the  Doc- 
tor's place,  John  used  to  go  in  to  visit  them  in  the 
dining-room  on  Saturday  evening,  partly  to  temper  the 
severity  of  his  wife,  Dr.  Davidson's  housekeeper,  who 
dealt  hardly  with  the  lads,  and  partly  to  assist  them  with 
practical  hints  regarding  pulpit  deportment  and  the 
delivery  of  their  sermons.  One  unfortunate  was  so  ner- 
vous and  clinging  that  John  arranged  his  remarks  for 
him  into  heads  —  with  an  application  to  two  classes  — 
and  then,  having  suggested  many  points,  stopped  under 
the  yew  arch  that  divided  the  kirkyard  from  the  manse 
garden,  and  turned  on  the  shaking  figure  which  followed. 

"  Ae  thing  mair ;  aifter  ye  're  dune  wi'  yir  sermon, 
whether  ye  're  sweatin'  or  no,  for  ony  sake  fa'  back  in  yir 
seat  and  dicht  (wipe)  yir  broo,"  which  being  done  by 
the  exhausted  orator,  made  a  great  impression  on  the 
people,  and  was  so  spread  abroad  that  a  year  afterwards 
it  won  for  him  the  parish  of  Pitscowrie. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


A    MODERATE. 

S  a  matter  of  fact,  Dr.  Davidson, 
minister  of  Drumtochty,  stood 
exactly  five  feet  nine  in  his  boots, 
and  was  therefore  a  man  of  quite 
moderate  height ;  but  this  is  not 
what  you  had  dared  to  state  to 
any  loyal  and  self-respecting  person  in 
the  parish.  For  "  the  Doctor  "  —  what 
suggestions  of  respect  and  love  were  in 
that  title  on  a  Drumtochty  tongue  —  was 
so  compactly  made  and  bore  himself 
with  such  dignity,  both  in  walk  and  con- 
versation, that  Drumsheugh,  although  not 
unaccustomed  to  measurement  and  a 
man  of  scrupulous  accuracy,  being  put  into  the  witness- 
box,  would  have  sworn  that  Dr.  Davidson  was  "  aboot 
sax  feet  aff  and  on  —  maybe  half  an  inch  mair,  standin' 
at  his  full  hicht  in  the  pulpit."  Which  fond  delusion 
seemed  to  declare  abroad,  as  in  a  parable,  the  greatness 
of  the  Doctor. 

Providence  had  dealt  bountifully  with  Dr.  Davidson, 
and  had  bestowed  on  him  the  largest  benefit  of  heredity. 
He  was  not  the  first  of  his  house  to  hold  this  high  place 
of  parish  minister  —  the  only  absolute  monarchy  in  the 
land — and  he  must  not  receive  over-praise  for  not  falling 


A   MODERATE.  193 

into  those  personal  awkwardnesses  and  petty  tyrannies 
which  are  the  infallible  signs  of  one  called  suddenly  to  the 
throne.  His  were  the  pride  of  blood,  the  inherent  sense 
of  authority,  the  habit  of  rule,  the  gracious  arts  of  manner, 
the  conviction  of  popular  devotion,  the  grasp  of  affairs, 
the  interest  in  the  people's  life,  which  are  the  marks  and 
aids  of  a  royal  caste.  It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  things 
that  the  Doctor  should  condescend  to  quarrel  with  a 
farmer  or  mix  himself  up  with  any  vulgar  squabble, 
because  his  will  was  law  in  ninety  cases  in  a  hundred, 
and  in  the  other  ten  he  skilfully  anticipated  the  people's 
wishes.  When  the  minister  of  Nether  Pitfoodles  —  who 
had  sermons  on  '•'  Love,  Courtship,  and  Marriage,"  and 
was  much  run  after  in  Muirtown  —  quarrelled  with  his 
elders  about  a  collection,  and  asked  the  interference  of 
the  Presbytery,  Dr.  Davidson  dealt  severely  with  him  in 
open  court  as  one  who  had  degraded  the  ministry  and 
discredited  government.  It  was  noticed  also  that  the 
old  gentleman  would  afterward  examine  Nether  Pit- 
foodies  curiously  for  minutes  together  in  the  Presbytery, 
and  then  shake  his  head. 

"  Any  man,"  he  used  to  say  to  his  reverend  brother  of 
Kildrummie,  as  they  went  home  from  the  Presbytery 
together,  "  who  gets  into  a  wrangle  with  his  farmers 
about  a  collection  is  either  an  upstart  or  he  is  a  fool,  and 
in  neither  case  ought  he  to  be  a  minister  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland."  And  the  two  old  men  would  lament  the 
decay  of  the  ministry  over  their  wine  in  Kildrummie 
Manse  —  being  both  of  the  same  school,  cultured,  clean- 
living,  kind-hearted,  honourable,  but  not  extravagantly 
evangelical  clergymen.  They  agreed  in  everything  ex- 
cept the  matter  of  their  after-dinner  wine,  Dr.  David- 
son having  a  partiality  for  port,  while  the  minister  of 

'3 


i94  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Kildrummie  insisted  that  a  generous  claret  was  the 
hereditary  drink  of  a  Scottish  gentleman.  This  was  only, 
however,  a  subject  of  academic  debate,  and  was  not 
allowed  to  interfere  with  practice  —  the  abbe  of  Drum- 
tochty  taking  his  bottle  of  claret,  in  an  appreciative 
spirit,  and  the  cur£  of  Kildrummie  disposing  of  his  two 
or  three  glasses  of  port  with  cheerful  resignation. 

If  Drumtochty  exalted  its  minister  above  his  neigh- 
bours, it  may  be  urged  in  excuse  that  Scottish  folk  are 
much  affected  by  a  man's  birth,  and  Dr.  Davidson  had  a 
good  ancestry.  He  was  the  last  of  his  line,  and  repre- 
sented a  family  that  for  two  centuries  had  given  her  sons 
to  the  Kirk.  Among  those  bygone  worthies,  the  Doctor 
used  to  select  one  in  especial  for  honourable  mention. 
He  was  a  minister  of  Dunleith,  whose  farmers  preferred 
to  play  ball  against  the  wall  of  the  kirk  to  hearing  him 
preach,  and  gave  him  insolence  on  his  offering  a  pious 
remonstrance.  Whereupon  the  Davidson  of  that  day, 
being,  like  all  his  race,  short  in  stature,  but  mighty  in 
strength,  first  beat  the  champion  player  one  Sabbath 
morning  at  his  own  game  to  tame  an  unholy  pride,  and 
then  thrashed  him  with  his  fist  to  do  good  to  his  soul. 
This  happy  achievement  in  practical  theology  secured  an 
immediate  congregation,  and  produced  so  salutary  an 
effect  on  the  schismatic  ball-player  that  he  became  in 
due  course  an  elder,  and  was  distinguished  for  his  sever- 
ity in  dealing  with  persons  absenting  themselves  from 
public  worship,  or  giving  themselves  overmuch  to  vain 
amusements. 

.  At  the  close  of  the  last  century  the  Doctor's  grand- 
father was.  minister  of  the  High  Kirk,  Muirtown,  where 
he  built-up  the  people  in  loyalty  to  Kirk  and  State,  and 
himself  recruited  for  the  Perthshire  Fencibles.  He  also 


A   MODERATE.  195 

delivered  a  sermon  entitled  "The  French  Revolution  the 
just  judgment  of  the  Almighty  on  the  spirit  of  insubordi- 
nation," for  which  he  received  a  vote  of  thanks  from  the 
Lord  Provost  and  Bailies  of  Muirtown  in  council  assem- 
bled, as  well  as  a  jewel  from  the  Earl  of  Kilspindie,  the 
grandfather  of  our  lord,  which  the  Doctor  inherited  and 
wore  on  the  third  finger  of  his  left  hand.  Had  Carmi- 
chael  or  any  other  minister  decked  himself  after  this 
fashion,  it  had  not  fared  well  with  him,  but  even  the  Free 
Kirk  appreciated  a  certain  pomp  in  Dr.  Davidson,  and 
would  have  resented  his  being  as  other  men.  He  was 
always  pleased  to  give  the  history  of  the  ring,  and  gene- 
rally told  a  story  of  his  ancestor,  which  he  had  tasted  much 
more  frequently  than  the  sermon.  A  famous  judge  had 
asked  him  to  dinner  as  he  made  his  circuit,  and  they  had 
disputed  about  the  claret,  till  at  last  its  excellence  com- 
pelled respect  at  the  close  of  the  first  bottle. 

"  '  Now,  Reverend  Sir,'  said  the  judge,  '  this  wine  has 
been  slandered  and  its  fair  fame  taken  away  without  rea- 
son. I  demand  that  you  absolve  it  from  the  scandal.' 

" '  My  Lord,'  said  my  worthy  forbear,  '  you  are  a 
great  criminal  lawyer,  but  you  are  not  well  read  in  Kirk 
law,  for  no  offender  can  be  absolved  without  three 
appearances.' 

"  My  grandfather,"  the  Doctor  used  to  conclude,  "  had 
the  best  of  that  jest  besides  at  least  two  bottles  of  claret, 
for  in  those  days  a  clergyman  took  more  wine  than 
we  would  now  think  seemly,  although,  mark  you,  the 
old  gentleman  always  denounced  drunkenness  on  two 
grounds  :  first,  because  it  was  an  offence  against  religion, 
and  second,  because  it  was  a  sign  of  weakness." 

Some  old  folk  could  remember  the  Doctor's  father,  who 
never  attained  to  the  Doctorate,  but  was  a  commanding 


196  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

personage.  He  published  no  sermons,  but  as  the  first 
Davidson  in  Drumtochty,  he  laid  the  foundations  of  good 
government.  The  Kilspindie  family  had  only  recently 
come  into  the  parish  —  having  purchased  the  larger  part 
of  the  Carnegies'  land  —  and  Drumtochty  took  a  thrawn 
fit,  and  among  other  acts  of  war  pulled  down  time  after 
time  certain  new  fences.  The  minister  was  appealed  to 
by  his  lordship,  and  having  settled  the  rights  of  the  mat- 
ter, he  bade  the  factor  wait  in  patience  till  the  Sacrament, 
and  Drumsheugh's  father  used  to  tell  unto  the  day  of  his 
death,  as  a  historical  event,  how  the  Doctor's  father  stood 
at  the  communion-table  and  debarred  from  the  Sacra- 
ment evil  livers  of  all  kinds,  and  that  day  in  especial  all 
who  had  broken  Lord  Kilspindie's  fences,  —  which  was 
an  end  of  the  war.  There  was  a  picture  of  him  in  the 
Doctor's  study,  showing  a  very  determined  gentleman, 
who  brought  up  both  his  parish  and  his  family  upon  the 
stick,  and  with  undeniable  success. 

With  such  blood  in  his  veins  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  our  Doctor  should  be  after  the  fashion  of  a  modern 
minister.  No  one  had  ever  seen  him  (or  wished  to  see 
him)  in  any  other  dress  than  black  cloth,  and  a  broad- 
brimmed  silk  hat,  with  a  white  stock  of  many  folds  and 
a  bunch  of  seals  depending  from  some  mysterious  pocket. 
His  walk,  so  assured,  so  measured,  so  stately,  was  a 
means  of  grace  to  the  parish,  confirming  every  sound  and 
loyal  belief,  and  was  crowned,  so  to  say,  by  his  stick, 
which  had  a  gold  head,  and  having  made  history  in  the 
days  of  his  father,  had  reached  the  position  of  a  heredi- 
tary sceptre.  No  one  could  estimate  the  aid  and  com- 
fort that  stick  gave  to  the  Doctor's  visits,  but  one  quite 
understood  the  force  of  the  comparison  Hillocks  once 
drew,  after  the  Doctor's  death,  between  the  coming  to  his 


A   MODERATE.  197 

house  of  the  Doctor  and  a  "cry"  from  his  energetic 
successor  under  the  new  regime. 

"  He  's  a  hard-workin'  body,  oor  new  man,  aye  rin 
rinnin1,  fuss  fussin'  roond  the  pairish,  an'  he 's  a  pop'lar 
hand  in  the  pulpit,  but  it 's  a  puir  business  a  veesit  frae 
him. 

"  It 's  juist  in  an'  oot  like  a  cadger  buyin'  eggs,  nae 
peace  an'  nae  solemnity.  Of  coorse  it 's  no  his  blame 
that  he  's  naethin'  tae  look  at,  for  that 's  the  wy  he  wes 
made,  an'  his  father  keepit  a  pig  (china)  shop,  but  at 
ony  rate  he  micht  get  a  wise-like  stick. 

"  Noo,  there  wes  the  Doctor  'at 's  dead  an'  gone ;  he 
didna  gang  scrammelin'  an'  huntin'  aifter  the  fouk  frae 
Monday  tae  Saiturday.  Na,  na,  he  didna  lower  hansel' 
preachin'  an'  paiterin'  like  a  missionary  body.  He  an- 
nounced frae  the  pulpit  whar  he  wes  gaein'  and  when  he 
wes  comin'. 

" '  It 's  my  purpose/  "  and  Hillocks  did  his  best  to 
imitate  the  Doctor,  " '  to  visit  the  farm  of  Hillocks  on 
Wednesday  of  this  week,  and  1  desire  to  meet  with  all 
persons  living  thereon  ; '  it  wes  worth  callin'  an  intima- 
tion, an'  gied  ye  pleesure  in  yir  seat. 

"  On  Tuesday  aifternoon  John  wud  juist  drap  in  tae 
see  that  a'thing  wes  ready,  and  the  next  aifternoon  the 
Doctor  comes  himsel',  an'  the  first  thing  he  dis  is  tae  lay 
the  stick  on  the  table  an'  gin  he  hed  never  said  a  word, 
tae  see  it  lyin'  there  wes  a  veesitation.  But  he  's  a  weel- 
meanin1  bit  craturie,  Maister  Peebles,  an'  handy  wi'  a 
magic  lantern.  Sail,"  and  then  Hillocks  became  incapa- 
ble of  speech,  and  you  knew  that  the  thought  of  Dr. 
Davidson  explaining  comic  slides  had  quite  overcome 
him. 

This  visitation  counted  as  an  event  in  domestic  life, 


i9s  KATE  CARNEGIE. 

and. the  Doctor's  progress  through  the  Glen  was  noted 
in  the  kirkyard,  and  any  special  remark  duly  reported. 
Nothing  could  be  more  perfect  than  his  manner  on  such 
occasions,  being  leisurely,  comprehensive,  dignified,  gra- 
cious. First  of  all  he  saluted  every  member  of  the  family 
down  to  the  bairns  by  name,  for  had  he  not  at  least 
married  the  heads  of  the  household,  and  certainly  bap- 
tised all  the  rest?  Unto  each  he  made  some  kindly  re- 
mark also  —  to  the  good  man  a  commendation  of  his 
careful  farming,  to  the  good-wife  a  deserved  compliment 
on  her  butter ;  the  eldest  daughter  was  praised  for  the 
way  in  which  she  was  sustaining  the  ancient  reputation 
of  Hillocks'  dairy  ;  there  was  a  word  to  Hillocks'  son  on 
his  masterly  ploughing ;  and  some  good  word  of  Dom- 
inie Jamieson's  about  the  little  lassie  was  not  forgotten. 
After  which  the  Doctor  sat  down  —  there  was  some  diffi- 
culty in  getting  the  family  to  sit  in  his  presence  —  and 
held  a  thorough  review  of  the  family  history  for  the  last 
year,  dwelling  upon  the  prospects  of  Charlie,  for  whom  the 
Doctor  had  got  a  situation,  and  Jean,  the  married  daughter, 
whose  husband  might  one  day  have  a  farm  with  four  pair 
of  horses  in  the  carse  of  Gowrie.  The  Doctor  would 
then  go  out  to  give  his  opinion  on  the  crops,  which  was 
drawn  from  keen  practical  knowledge  —  his  brochure  on 
"  The  Potato  Disease  :  Whence  it  Came  and  How  it  is 
to  be  Met "  created  much  stir  in  its  day  —  and  it  was 
well  known  that  the  Doctor's  view  on  bones  or  guano  as 
a  preferable  manure  was  decisive.  On  his  return  the 
servants  came  in  —  to  whom  also  he  said  a  word  —  and 
then  from  the  head  of  the  table  he  conducted  worship 
—  the  ploughmen  looking  very  uneasy  and  the  children 
never  taking  their  eyes  off  his  face,  while  the  gude-wife 
kept  a  watchful  eye  on  all.  At  the  prayer  she  was  care- 


A    MODERATE.  199 

ful  to  be  within  arm's  reach  of  Hillocks,  since  on  one 
memorable  occasion  that  excellent  man  had  remained 
in  an  attitude  of  rapt  devotion  after  the  others  had  risen 
from  their  knees,  which  sight  profoundly  affected  the 
family,  and  led  the  Doctor  to  remark  that  it  was  the 
only  time  he  had  seen  Hillocks  play  the  Pharisee  in  pub- 
lic. The  Doctor's  favourite  passages  were  the  eulogium 
on  the  model  housewife  in  Proverbs,  the  parable  of  the 
Good  Samaritan,  and  the  1 2th  chapter  of  Romans,  from 
which  he  deduced  many  very  searching  and  practical 
lessons  on  diligence,  honesty,  mercy,  and  hospitality. 
Before  he  left,  and  while  all  were  under  the  spell  of  his 
presence,  the  Doctor  would  approach  the  delicate  sub- 
ject of  Hillocks'  "tout-mout"  (dispute)  with  Gormack 
over  a  purchase  at  a  roup,  in  which  it  was  freely  asserted 
that  Gormack  had  corrupted  the  Kildrummie  auctioneer, 
a  gentleman  removed  above  pecuniary  bribes,  but  not 
unaffected  by  liquid  refreshment.  So  powerfully  did 
the  Doctor  appeal  to  Hillocks'  neighbourliness  that  he 
took  snuff  profusely,  and  authorised  the  Doctor  to  let  it 
be  understood  at  Gormack  that  the  affair  was  at  an  end, 
which  treaty  was  confirmed  by  the  two  parties  in  Kil- 
drummie train,  when  Hillocks  lent  Gormack  his  turnip- 
sowing  machine  and  borrowed  in  turn  Gormack's  water- 
cart.  Mr.  Curlew  had  more  than  once  hinted  in  the 
Presbytery  of  Muirtown  that  Dr.  Davidson  was  not  so 
evangelical  as  might  be  desired,  and  certainly  Mr.  Cur- 
lew's visitation  was  of  a  much  more  exciting  nature  ;  but 
St.  David's  congregation  was  never  without  a  quarrel, 
while  the  Doctor  created  an  atmosphere  in  Drumtochty 
wherein  peace  and  charity  flourished  exceedingly. 

Whatever  might  be  urged  in  praise  of  his  visitation, 
surely  the  Doctor  could  never  be  more  stately  or  fatherly 


200  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

than  on  Sacrament  Sabbath,  as  he  stood  in  his  place  to 
begin  service.  His  first  act  was  to  wipe  elaborately 
those  gold  eye-glasses,  without  which  nothing  would  have 
been  counted  a  sermon  in  Drumtochty  Kirk,  and  then, 
adjusting  them  with  care,  the  Doctor  made  a  deliber- 
ate survey  of  the  congregation,  beginning  at  his  right 
hand  and  finishing  at  his  left.  Below  him  sat  the  elders 
in  their  blacks,  wearing  white  stocks  that  had  cost  them 
no  little  vexation  that  morning,  and  the  precentor,  who 
was  determined  no  man,  neither  Saunders  Baxter  nor 
another,  should  outsing  him  that  day  in  Coleshill. 
Down  the  centre  of  the  kirk  ran  a  long  table,  covered 
with  pure  white  linen,  bleached  in  the  June  showers 
and  wonderfully  ironed,  whereon  a  stain  must  not  be 
found,  for  along  that  table  would  pass  the  holy  bread  and 
wine.  Across  the  aisle  on  either  side,  the  pews  were 
filled  with  stalwart  men,  solemn  beyond  their  wonted 
gravity,  and  kindly  women  in  simple  finery,  and  rosy- 
cheeked  bairns.  The  women  had  their  tokens  wrapped 
in  snowy  handkerchiefs,  and  in  their  Bibles  they  had 
sprigs  of  apple-ringy  and  mint,  and  other  sweet-scented 
plants.  By-and-by  there  would  be  a  faint  fragrance  of 
peppermint  in  the  kirk  —  the  only  religious  and  edify- 
ing sweet,  which  flourishes  wherever  sound  doctrine  is 
preached  and  disappears  before  new  views,  and  is  there- 
fore now  confined  to  the  Highlands  of  Wales  and  Scot- 
land, the  last  home  of  our  fathers'  creed.  The  two  back 
seats  were  of  black  oak,  richly  carved.  In  the  one  sat  the 
General  and  Kate,  and  across  the  passage  Viscount  Hay, 
Lord  Kilspindie's  eldest  son,  a  young  man  of  noble  build 
and  carriage,  handsome  and  debonair,  who  never  moved 
during  the  sermon  save  twice,  and  then  he  looked  at  the 
Carnegies'  pew. 


A   MODERATE.  201 

When  the  Doctor  had  satisfied  himself  that  none  were 
missing  of  the  people,  he  dropped  his  eye-glass  —  each 
act  was  so  closely  followed  that  Drumsheugh  below  could 
tell  where  the  Doctor  was  —  and  took  snuff  after  the 
good  old  fashion,  tapping  the  box  twice,  selecting  a 
pinch,  distributing  it  evenly,  and  using  first  a  large  red 
bandana  and  then  a  delicate  white  cambric  handkerchief. 
When  the  cambric  disappeared,  each  person  seized  his 
Bible,  for  the  Doctor  would  say  immediately  with  a  loud, 
clear  voice,  preceded  by  a  gentlemanly  clearance  of  the 
throat,  "  Let  us  compose  our  minds  for  the  worship  of 
Almighty  God  by  singing  to  His  praise  the  first  Psalm. 

"  '  That  man  hath  perfect  blessedness 
Who  walketh  not  astray  — '  " 

Then  Peter  Rattray,  of  the  high  Glen,  would  come  in 
late,  and  the  Doctor  would  follow  him  with  his  eye  till 
the  unfortunate  man  reached  his  pew,  where  his  own 
flesh  and  blood  withdrew  themselves  from  him  as  if  he 
had  been  a  leper,  and  Peter  himself  wished  that  he  had 
never  been  born. 

"  Five  minutes  earlier,  Peter,  would  have  prevented 
this  unseemly  interruption  —  ahem. 

" '  In  counsel  of  ungodly  men, 
Nor  stands  in  sinners'  way.'  " 

Before  the  Sacrament  the  Doctor  gave  one  of  his  col- 
lege sermons  on  some  disputed  point  in  divinity,  and 
used  language  that  was  nothing  short  of  awful. 

"  Grant  me  those  premises,"  he  would  say,  while  the 
silence  in  the  kirk  could  be  felt,  "  and  I  will  show  to 
any  reasonable  and  unprejudiced  person  that  those  new 
theories  are  nothing  but  a  resuscitated  and  unjustifiable 
Pelagianism."  Such  passages  produced  a  lasting  im- 


202  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

pression  in  the  parish,  and  once  goaded  Drumsheugh's 
Saunders  into  voluntary  speech. 

^ "  Yon  wes  worth  ca'in'  a  sermon.  Did  you  ever  hear 
sic  words  out  o'  the  mouth  o!  a  man?  Noo  that  bleatin' 
cratur  Curlew  'at  comes  frae  Muirtovvn  is  jist  pittin'  by 
the  time.  Sail,  ae  sermon  o'  the  Doctor's  wud  last  yon 
body  for  a  year." 

After  the  sermon  the  people  sang, 

"  'T  was  on  that  night  when  doomed  to  know," 

and  the  elders,  who  had  gone  out  a  few  minutes  before, 
entered  the  kirk  in  procession,  bearing  the  elements,  and 
set  them  before  the  Doctor,  now  standing  at  the  table. 
The  people  came  from  their  pews  and  took  their  seats, 
singing  as  they  moved,  while  the  children  were  left  to 
their  own  devices,  tempered  by  the  remembrance  that 
their  doings  could  be  seen  by  the  Doctor,  and  would 
receive  a  just  recompense  of  reward  from  their  own  kin 
in  the  evening.  Domsie  went  down  one  side  and  Drum- 
sheugh  the  other,  collecting  the  tokens,  whose  clink, 
clink  in  the  silver  dish  was  the  only  sound. 

"  If  there  be  any  other  person  who  desires  to  take  the 
Sacrament  at  this  the  first  table  "  (for  the  Sacrament 
was  given  then  to  detachments),  "let  him  come  without 
delay." 

"  Let  us  go,  dad,"  whispered  Kate.  "  He  is  a  dear 
old  padre,  and  .  .  .  they  are  good  people  and  our 
neighbours." 

"But  they  won't  kneel,  you  know,  Kit ;  will  you  .  .  .?  " 

"We  '11  do  as  they  do  ;  it  is  not  our  Sacrament."  So 
the  father  and  daughter  went  up  the  kirk  and  took  their 
places  on  the  Doctor's  left  hand.  A  minute  later  Lord 
Hay  rose  and  went  up  his  aisle,  and  sat  down  opposite 


A   MODERATE.  203 

the  Carnegies,  looking  very  nervous,  but  also  most 
modest  and  sincere. 

The  Doctor  gave  the  cup  to  the  General,  who  passed 
it  to  Kate,  and  from  her  it  went  to  Weelum  Mac  Lure, 
and  another  cup  he  gave  to  Hay,  whom  he  had  known 
from  a  child,  and  he  handed  it  to  Marget  Howe,  and  she 
to  Whinnie,  her  man ;  and  so  the  two  cups  passed  down 
from  husband  to  wife,  from  wife  to  daughter,  from 
daughter  to  servant,  from  lord  to  tenant,  till  all  had 
shown  forth  the  Lord's  death  in  common  fellowship  and 
love  as  becometh  Christian  folk.  In  the  solemn  silence 
the  sunshine  fell  on  the  faces  of  the  communicants,  and 
the  singing  of  the  birds  came  in  through  the  open  door 
with  the  scent  of  flowers  and  ripe  corn.  Before  the 
congregation  left,  the  Doctor  addressed  a  few  words  of 
most  practical  advice,  exhorting  them,  in  especial,  to 
live  in  the  spirit  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  to  be 
good  neighbours.  It  was  on  one  of  those  occasions  that 
he  settled  a  dispute  between  masters  and  men  —  whether 
the  cutting  of  grass  for  the  horses'  breakfast  should  be 
included  in  the  day's  work  —  and  ended  the  only  bitter- 
ness known  in  Drumtochty. 

At  the  kirk  gate  Hay  introduced  himself  to  his 
father's  friend,  and  the  General  looked  round  to  find  his 
daughter,  but  Kate  had  disappeared.  She  had  seen  the 
face  of  Marget  Howe  after  the  Sacrament  as  the  face 
of  one  in  a  vision,  and  she  had  followed  Marget  to  the 
road. 

"  Will  you  let  me  walk  with  you  for  a  little  ?  I  am 
General  Carnegie's  daughter,  and  I  would  like  to  speak 
to  you  about  the  Sacrament ;  it  was  lovely." 

"Ye  dae  me  much  honour,  Miss  Carnegie,"  and 
Marget  slightly  flushed,  "  an'  much  pleasure,  for  there  is 


204 


KATE   CARNEGIE. 


"WILL   YOU    LET   ME   WALK   WITH    YOU    FOR   A    LITTLE?" 

naething  dearer  tae  me  than  keeping   the   Sacrament ; 
it  is  rny  joy  every  day  and  muckle  comfort  in  life." 

"  But  I  thought  you  had  it  only  once  a  year?  "  ques- 
tioned Kate. 


A  MODERATE.  205 

"  With  bread  and  wine  in  outward  sign  that  is  once, 
and  maybe  eneuch,  for  it  makes  ane  high  day  for  us  all, 
but  div  ye  not  think,  Miss  Carnegie,  that  all  our  life 
should  be  ane  Sacrament?" 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Kate,  looking  into  Marget's  sweet, 
spiritual  face. 

"  Is  it  no  the  picture  of  His  Luve,  who  thocht  o' 
everybody  but  Himsel',  an"  saved  everybody  but  Him- 
seF,  an'  didna  He  say  we  maun  drink  His  cup  and  live 
His  life?" 

Kate  only  signed  that  Marget  should  go  on. 

"  Noo  a  'm  judgin'  that  ilka  ane  o's  is  savit  juist  as  we 
are  baptised  intae  the  Lord's  death,  and  ilka  time  ane 
o's  keeps  back  a  hot  word,  or  humbles  a  proud  heart,  or 
serves  anither  at  a  cost,  we  have  eaten  the  Body  and 
drunk  the  Blood  o'  the  Lord." 

"  You  are  a  good  woman,"  cried  Kate,  in  her  impul- 
sive way,  so  quick  to  be  pleased  or  offended.  "  May  I 
come  to  see  you  some  day?" 

"  Dinna  think  me  better  than  I  am  :  a  woman  who  had 
many  sins  tae  fecht  and  needit  many  trials  tae  chasten 
her ;  but  ye  will  be  welcome  at  Whinny  Knovve  for  yir 
ain  sake  and  yir  people's,  an'  gin  it  ever  be  in  ma  pooer 
tae  serve  ye,  Miss  Carnegie,  inony  wy,  it  wull  be  ma  joy." 

Twice  as  she  came  through  the  woods  Kate  stopped ; 
once  she  bit  her  lip,  once  she  dashed  a  tear  from  her 
eye. 

"Where  did  you  go  to,  lassie?"  and  the  General  met 
Kate  at  the  gateway.  "  Lord  Hay  came  to  the  drive 
with  me,  and  was  quite  disappointed  not  to  meet  you  — 
a  very  nice  lad  indeed,  manly  and  well-mannered." 

"  Never  mind  Lord  Hay,  dad ;  I  've  been  with  the 
most  delightful  woman  I  've  ever  seen," 


206  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"Do  you  mean  she  was  in  kirk?" 

"Yes,  sitting  across  the  table — she  is  a  farmer's  wife, 
and  a  better  lady  than  we  saw  in  India. 

"  Oh,  dad,"  and  Kate  kissed  her  father,  "  I  wish  I  had 
known  my  mother ;  it  had  been  better  for  me,  and  .  .  . 
happier  for  you." 


CHAPTER  XV. 


JOINT   POTENTATES. 

MONG  all  the  houses  in  a  Scot- 
tish parish  the  homeliest  and 
kindliest  is  the  manse,  for  to  its 
door  some  time  in  the  year 
comes  every  inhabitant,  from 
the  laird  to  the  cottar  wo- 
man. Within  the  familiar 
and  old-fashioned  study, 
where  the  minister's  chair 
and  writing-table  could  not 
be  changed  without  discom- 
posing the  parish,  and  where 
there  are  fixed  degrees  of 
station,  so  that  the  laird  has 
his  chair  and  the  servant 
lass  hers,  the  minister  re- 
ceives and  does  his  best  for  all  the  folk  committed  to  Ijis 
charge.  Here  he  consults  with  the  factor  about  some 
improvement  in  the  arrangements  of  the  little  common- 
wealth, he  takes  counsel  with  a  farmer  about  his  new  lease 
and  promises  to  say  a  good  word  to  his  lordship,  he  con- 
firms the  secret  resolution  of  some  modest  gifted  lad  to 
study  for  the  holy  ministry,  he  hears  the  shamefaced  con- 
fession of  some  lassie  whom  love  has  led  astray,  he  gives 
good  advice  to  a  son  leaving  the  Glen  for  the  distant 
dangerous  world,  he  comforts  the  mother  who  has  re- 


208  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

ceived  bad  news  from  abroad.  Generations  have  come 
in  their  day  to  this  room,  and  generations  still  unborn 
will  come  in  their  joys  and  sorrows,  with  their  trials  and 
their  affairs,  while  the  manse  stands  and  human  life  runs 
its  old  course.  And  when,  as  was  the  case  with  Dr. 
Davidson  in  Drumtochty,  the  minister  is  ordained  to  the 
parish  in  his  youth,  and,  instead,  of  hurrying  hither  and 
thither,  preaching  in  vacancies,  scheming  and  intriguing, 
he  dwells  all  his  days  among  his  own  people,  he  himself 
knows  three  generations,  and  accumulates  a  store  of 
practical  wisdom  for  the  help  of  his  people.  What  may 
be  the  place  of  the  clergyman  in  an  English  parish,  and 
what  associations  of  sympathy  and  counsel  the  rectory 
may  have  for  the  English  farm-labourer,  it  is  not  per- 
mitted to  a  northern  man  to  know,  but  it  is  one  good 
thing  at  least  in  our  poor  land  that  the  manse  is  another 
word  for  guidance  and  good  cheer,  so  that  Jean  advises 
Jock  in  their  poor  little  perplexity  about  a  new  place  to 
"  slip  doon  an'  see  the  Doctor,"  and  Jock,  although  ap- 
pearing to  refuse,  does  "  gie  a  cry  at  the  manse,"  and 
comes  home  to  the  gude-wife  mightily  comforted. 

The  manse  builders  of  the  ancient  days  were  men  of  a 
shrewd  eye  and  much  wisdom.  If  anywhere  the  traveller 
in  the  north  country  sees  a  house  of  moderate  size  peeping 
from  among  a  clump  of  trees  in  the  lap  of  a  hill  where  the 
north-easter  cannot  come  and  the  sun  shines  full  and  warm, 
then  let  him  be  sure  that  is  the  manse,  with  the  kirk  and 
God's  acre  close  beside,  and  that  the  fertile  little  fields 
around  are  the  glebe,  which  the  farmers  see  are  ploughed 
and  sown  and  reaped  first  in  the  parish.  Drumtochty 
Manse  lay  beneath  the  main  road,  so  that  the  cold  wind 
blowing  from  the  north  went  over  its  chimneys,  and  on  the 
east  it  was  sheltered  by  the  Tochty  woods.  Southwards 


JOINT   POTENTATES.  209 

it  overlooked  the  fields  that  sloped  towards  the  river,  and 
westwards,  through  some  ancient  trees,  one  study  window 
had  a  peep  of  the  west,  although  it  was  not  given  to  the 
parish  manse  to  lie  of  an  evening  in  the  glory  of  the  set- 
ting sun,  as  did  the  Free  Kirk.  Standing  at  the  gate 
and  looking  down  beneath  the  beeches  that  stood  as 
sentinels  on  either  side  of  the  little  drive,  one  caught  a 
pleasant  glimpse  of  the  manse  garden,  with  its  close-cut 
lawn  and  flower-beds  and  old  summer-house  and  air  of 
peace.  No  one  troubled  the  birds  in  that  place,  and  they 
had  grown  shameless  in  their  familiarity  with  dignities  —  a 
jackdaw  having  once  done  his  best  to  steal  the  Doctor's 
bandana  handkerchief  and  the  robins  settling  on  his 
hat.  Irreverence  has  limits,  and  in  justice  to  a  privileged 
friend  it  ought  to  be  explained  that  the  Doctor  wore  on 
these  occasions  an  aged  wide-awake  and  carried  no 
gold-headed  stick.  His  dog  used  to  follow  him  step  by 
step  as  he  fed  the  birds  and  pottered  among  the  flowers, 
and  then  it  always  ended  in  the  old  man  sitting  down  on 
a  seat  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn,  with  Skye  at  his  feet,  and 
looking  across  the  Glen  where  he  had  been  born  and 
where  for  nearly  half  a  century  he  had  ministered.  Kate 
caught  him  once  in  this  attitude,  and  was  so  successful  in 
her  sketch  that  some  have  preferred  it  to  the  picture  in 
oils  that  was  presented  to  the  Doctor  by  the  Presbytery 
of  Muirtown,  and  was  painted  by  an  R.  A.  who  spent  a 
fortnight  at  the  manse  and  departed  with  some  marvel- 
lous heads,  still  to  be  identified  in  certain  councillors 
and  nobles  of  the  past.  Both  are  hanging  in  the  same 
house  now,  far  from  Drumtochty,  and  there  they  call 
one  "  Public  Capaucity  "  and  the  other  "  Private  Capau- 
city,"  and  you  require  to  have  seen  both  to  know  our 
kindly,  much-loved  Moderate. 

14 


210 


KATE  CARNEGIE. 


As  John  grew  old  with  his  master  and  mellowed,  he 
would  make  believe  to  work  close  by,  so  that  at  times 


' '  PRIVATE    CAPAUCITY . ' ' 

they  might  drop  into  talk,  recalling  names  that  had  died 
out  of  the  Glen,  shrewd  sayings  that  fell  from  lips  now 
turned  to  dust,  curious  customs  that  had  ceased  forever, 


JOINT   POTENTATES.  211 

all  in  great  charity.  Then  there  would  come  a  pause, 
and  John  would  say,  "Ay,  ay,"  and  go  away  to  the 
bees.  Under  the  influence  of  such  reminiscences  John 
used  to  become  depressed,  and  gently  prepare  Rebecca 
for  the  changes  that  were  not  far  off,  when  Drumtochty 
would  have  a  new  minister  and  a  new  beadle. 

"The  Doctor's  failin',  Becca,  an'  it's  no  tae  be 
expeckit  that  a  '11  be  lang  aifter  him ;  it  wudna  be  fittin', 
an'  a  'm  no  wantin'  't.  Aifter  ye  've  carried  the  bukes 
afore  ae  minister  for  five  and  thirty  year,  ye  're  no 
anxious  for  a  change  ;  naebody  '11  ever  come  doon  the 
kirkyaird  like  the  Doctor,  an'  a'  cudna  brak  ma  step  ;  na, 
na,  there 's  no "  mony  things  a'  michtna  learn,  but  a' 
cudna  brak  ma  step." 

Rebecca  went  on  with  her  dinner  in  silence ;  even 
capable  men  had  weaknesses  somewhere,  and  she  was 
accustomed  to  those  moralisings. 

"  A  'm  the  auldest  beadle  in  the  Presbytery  o"  Muir- 
town  —  though  a'  say  it  as  sudna  —  an'  the  higher  the 
place  the  mair  we  '11  hae  tae  answer  for,  Becca.  Nae 
man  can  hold  the  poseetion  a  'm  in  withoot  anxieties. 
Noo  there  wes  the  '  Eruption '  in  '43  —  it  could  not  be 
ignorance  which  made  John  cling  to  this  word,  and  so 
we  supposed  that  the  word  was  adopted  in  the  spirit  of  his- 
torical irony  —  "  that  wes  a  crisis.  Did  a"  ever  tell  ye, 
Rebecca,  that  there  wes  juist  ae  beadle  left  the  next 
morning  tae  cairry  on  the  Presbytery  of  Muirtown?  " 

"  Ay,  forty  times  an'  mair,"  replied  that  uncompromis- 
ing woman,  "  an'  it  wud  set  ye  better  tae  be  servin'  the 
Doctor's  lunch  than  sittin'  haverin'  an'  blawin'  there." 

No  sane  person  in  Drumtochty  would  have  believed 
that  any  human  being  dared  to  address  John  after  this 
fashion,  and  it  is  still  more  incredible  that  the  great 


2i2  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

man  should  have  risen  without  a  word  and  gone  about 
his  duty.  Such  a  surprising  and  painful  incident  suggests 
the  question  whether  a  beadle  or  any  other  person  in 
high  position  ought  to  be  married,  and  so  be  exposed  to 
inevitable  familiarities.  Hillocks  took  this  view  strongly 
in  the  kirkyard  at  the  time  of  John's  marriage  —  although 
neither  he  nor  any  one  knew  with  how  much  reason  — 
and  he  impressed  the  fathers  powerfully. 

"  Becca  cam  frae  Kilspindie  Castle  near  thirty  year 
syne,  and  John  's  took  the  bukes  aboot  the  same  time ; 
they  've  agreed  no  that  ill  for  sic  a  creetical  poseetion  a" 
that  time,  him  oot  an'  her  in,  an'  atween  them  the  Doctor  's 
no  been  that  ill-servit ;  they  micht  hae  lat  weel  alane. 

"  She  's  no  needin'  a  man  tae  keep  her,"  and  Hillocks 
proceeded  to  review  the  situation,  "  for  Becca 's  hed  a 
gude  place,  an'  she  disna  fling  awa'  her  siller  on  dress. 
As  for  John,  a'  canna  mak  him  oot,  for  he  gets  his 
stockin's  darned  and  his  white  stock  dune  as  weel  an' 
maybe  better  than  if  he  wes  mairried." 

The  kirkyard  could  see  no  solution  of  the  problem,  and 
Hillocks  grew  pessimistic. 

"  It  "11  be  a  doon-come  tae  him,  a  'm  judgin',  an'  '11  no 
be  for  the  gude  o'  the  parish.  He  's  never  been  crossed 
yet,  an'  he  '11  no  tak  weel  wi'  contradickin'  ..." 

"  She  wudna  daur,"  broke  in  Whinny,  "  an'  him  the 
beadle." 

"Ye  ken  little  aboot  weemen,"  retorted  Hillocks,  "for 
yir  gude-wife  is  by  hersel'  in  the  pairish,  an'  micht  be  a 
sanct ;  the  maist  o'  them  are  a  camsteary  lot.  A  'm  no 
sayin',"  he  summed  up,  "  that  Becca  '11  gie  the  beadle 
the  word  back  or  refuse  to  dae  his  biddin',  but  she  '11 
be  pittin'  forrit  her  ain  opeenions,  an'  that 's  no  what 
he  's  been  accustomed  tae  in  Drumtochty." 


JOINT   POTENTATES.  213 

They  were  married  one  forenoon  in  the  study,  with 
Drumsheugh  and  Domsie  for  witnesses  —  the  address 
given  by  the  Doctor  could  hardly  be  distinguished  from 
an  ordination  charge  —  and  John  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  accompanying  his  master  that  afternoon  to  the 
General  Assembly,  while  Rebecca  remained  in  charge  of 
the  manse. 

"  It  wudna  be  wise-like  for  us  twa,"  exclaimed  the 
beadle,  "  tae  be  stravagin'  ower  the  country  for  three  or 
fower  days  like  wild  geese,  but  the  pairish  micht  expect 
something.  Noo,  a  Ve  hed  ma  share  o'  a  Presbytery  an' 
a  Synod,  tae  say  naethin'  o'  Kirk  Sessions,  but  a  've 
never  seen  an  Assembly. 

"  Gin  you  cud  get  a  place,  a'  wud  spend  ma  time  con- 
sidering hoo  the  officer  comes  in,  and  hoo  he  lays  doon 
the  buke  an'  sic-like  ;  a'  micht  get  a  hint,"  said  John, 
with  much  modesty. 

So  John  went  alone  for  his  wedding  tour,  and  being 
solemnly  introduced  to  Thomas,  the  chief  of  all  beadles, 
discussed  mysteries  with  him  unto  great  edification ; 
but  he  was  chiefly  impressed  by  the  Clerk  of  the  Free 
Kirk  Assembly  —  into  which  he  had  wandered  on  an 
errand  of  exploration  —  who  was  a  fiery-faced  old  gen- 
tleman with  a  stentorian  voice  and  the  heart  of  a  little 
child. 

"  Ye  never  heard  him  cry,  '  Officer,  shut  the  door,' 
afore  a  vote  ?  "  he  inquired  of  the  Doctor.  "  Weel,  ye  Ve 
missed  a  real  pleesure,  sir ;  gin  ye  stude  on  Princes 
Street,  wi'  the  wind  frae  the  richt  airt,  ye  micht  hear 
him.  A'  never  heard  onything  better  dune ;  hoo  ony 
man  wi'  sic  a  face  and  voice  cud  be  content  ootside  the 
Auld  Kirk  passes  me." 

John  was  so  enamoured  of  this  performance  that  after 


2i4  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

much  cogitation  he  unburdened  his  mind  to  the  Doctor, 
and  showed  how  such  a  means  of  grace  might  be  ex- 
tended to  Drumtochty. 

"  Noo,  if  there  wes  nae  objection  in  order,  aifter  ye 
hed  settled  in  the  pulpit,  an'  hed  yir  first  snuff,  ye  micht 
say,  '  Officer,  shut  the  door.'  Then  a'  wud  close  the 
kirk  door  deleeberately  in  sicht  o'  the  hale  congregation 
an'  come  back  tae  ma  place,  an'  Peter  Rattray  himseF 
wudna  daur  tae  show  his  face  aifter  that.  Ye  hae  the 
voice  an'  the  manner,  Doctor,  an'  it 's  no  richt  tae  wyste 
them." 

In  public  John  defended  the  Doctor's  refusal  as  a 
proof  of  his  indulgence  to  the  prodigals  of  the  parish,  but 
with  his  intimates  he  did  not  conceal  his  belief  that  the 
opportunity  had  been  lost  of  bringing  the  service  in 
Drumtochty  Kirk  to  absolute  perfection.  John's  own 
mind  still  ran  on  the  mighty  utterance,  and  so  it  came  to 
pass  that  the  question  of  mastery  in  the  kitchen  of  the 
manse  under  the  new  regime  was  settled  within  a  week 
after  his  ecclesiastical  honeymoon. 

"  Rebecca"  —  this  with  a  voice  of  thunder  from  the 
fireplace,  where  the  beadle  was  reading  the  Muirtown 
Advertiser  —  "  shut  the  door." 

The  silence  was  so  imperative  that  John  turned  round, 
and  saw  his  spouse  standing  with  a  half-dried  dish  in  her 
hand. 

"  Ma  name  is  Rebecca,"  as  she  recovered  her  speech, 
"  an'  there  's  nae  ither  wumman  in  the  hoose,  but  a  'm 
judgin'  ye  werena  speakin'  tae  me  or "  —  with  awful 
severity  —  "  ye  've  made  a  mistak',  an'  the  suner  it 's  pit 
richt  the  better  for  baith  you  an'  me  an'  the  manse  o' 
Drumtochty. 

"  For  near  thirty  year  ye  've  gane  traivellin'  in  an'  oot 


STANDING   WITH   A    HALF-DRIED    DISH    IN    HER   HAND. 


2i 6  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

o'  this  kitchen  withoot  cleanin'  yir  feet,  and  ye  've  pit  yir 
shoon  on  the  fender,  an'  hung  up  yir  weet  coat  on  the 
back  o'  the  door,  an'  commandit  this  an'  that  as  if  ye 
were  the  Doctor  himsel',  an'  a'  cud  dae  naethin',  for  ye 
were  beadle  o'  Drumtochty. 

"  So  a'  saw  there  wes  nae  ither  wy  o't  but  tae  mairry 
ye  an'  get  some  kind  of  order  in  the  hoose ;  noo  ye  '11 
understand  the  poseetion  an'  no  need  anither  tellin' ; 
ootside  in  the  kirk  an'  pairish  ye  're  maister,  an'  a  '11 
never  conter  ye,  for  a'  ken  ma  place  as  a  kirk  member 
an'  yir  place  as  beadle  ;  inside  in  this  hoose  a  'm  maister, 
an'  ye  '11  dae  what  ye  're  bid,  always  in  due  submission 
tae  the  Doctor,  wha  's  maister  baith  in  an'  oot.  Tak  yir 
feet  aff  that  steel  bar  this  meenut "  —  this  by  way  of 
practical  application;  and  when  after  a  brief  pause,  in 
which  the  fate  of  an  empire  hung  in  the  balance,  John 
obeyed,  the  two  chief  officials  in  the  parish  had  made 
their  covenant. 

Perhaps  it  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  they  carefully 
kept  their  bounds,  so  that  Becca  would  no  more  have 
thought  of  suggesting  a  new  attitude  to  John  as  he  stood 
at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  stair  waiting  for  the  Doctor's 
descent  than  John  would  have  interfered  with  the  cook- 
ing of  the  Doctor's  dinner.  When  the  glass  was  set  at 
fair,  they  even  exchanged  compliments,  the  housekeeper 
expressing  her  sense  of  unworthiness  as  she  saw  John  in 
his  high  estate,  while  he  would  indicate  that  the  Doctor's 
stock  on  Sacrament  Sabbath  reached  the  highest  limits  of 
human  attainment.  The  Doctor  being  left  to  the  free- 
dom of  his  own  will,  laboured  at  a  time  to  embroil  the 
powers  by  tempting  them  to  cross  one  another's  fron- 
tiers, but  always  failed,  because  they  foresaw  the  conse- 
quences with  a  very  distinct  imagination.  If  he  asked 


JOINT   POTENTATES.  217 

Rebecca  to  convey  a  message  to  Drumsheugh,  that 
cautious  woman  would  send  in  John  to  receive  it  from 
the  Doctor's  own  lips,  and  if  the  Doctor  gave  some 
directions  regarding  dinner  to  John,  Rebecca  would 
appear  in  a  few  minutes  to  learn  what  the  Doctor 
wanted.  It  was  an  almost  complete  delimitation  of 
frontiers,  and  the  Doctor  used  to  say  that  he  never  quite 
understood  the  Free  Kirk  theory  of  the  relation  between 
Church  and  State  till  he  considered  the  working  agree- 
ment of  his  two  retainers.  It  was,  he  once  pleasantly 
said  to  the  minister  of  Kildrummie,  a  perfect  illustration 
of  "  co-ordinate  jurisdiction  with  mutual  subordination." 
It  is  just  possible  that  some  one  may  not  fully  grasp 
those  impressive  words,  in  which  case  let  him  appreciate 
other  people's  accomplishments  and  mourn  his  igno- 
rance, for  they  were  common  speech  in  Drumtochty, 
and  were  taught  at  their  porridge  to  the  Free  Kirk 
children. 

It  is  an  unfortunate  circumstance,  however,  that  even 
a  scientific  frontier  wavers  at  places,  and  leaves  a  piece 
of  doubtful  territory  that  may  at  any  moment  become  a 
cause  of  war.  Surely  there  is  not  on  the  face  of  the 
Scottish  earth  a  more  unoffending,  deferential,  concilia- 
tory person  than  a  "  probationer,"  who  on  Saturdays  can 
be  seen  at  every  country  junction,  bag  in  hand,  on  his 
patient  errand  of  "  supply,"  and  yet  it  was  over  his 
timid  body  the  great  powers  of  the  manse  twice  quar- 
relled disastrously.  As  a  guest  in  the  manse,  to  be 
received  on  Saturday  evening,  to  be  conducted  to  his 
room,  to  be  fed  and  warmed,  to  go  to  his  bed  at  a 
proper  hour —  ten  on  Saturday  and  ten-thirty  on  Sabbath 
—  to  be  sent  away  on  Monday  morning  in  good  time  for 
the  train,  he  was  within  the  province  of  Rebecca.  As  a 


2i8  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

minister  to  be  examined,  advised,  solemnised,  encour- 
aged, to  be  got  ready  on  Sabbath  morning  and  again  dis- 
robed, to  be  edified  with  suitable  conversation  and  gen- 
erally made  as  fit  as  possible  for  his  work,  he  was 
evidently  within  John's  sphere  of  influence.  It  was  cer- 
tainly the  beadle's  business  to  visit  the  dining-room  on 
Saturday  evening,  where  the  young  man  was  supposed  to 
be  meditating  against  the  ordeal  of  the  morrow,  to  get 
the  Psalms  for  the  precentor,  to  answer  strictly  profes- 
sional questions,  and  generally  to  advise  the  neophyte 
about  the  sermon  that  would  suit  Drumtochty,  and  the 
kind  of  voice  to  be  used.  One  thing  John  knew  per- 
fectly well  he  ought  not  to  do,  and  that  was  to  invite  a 
probationer  to  spend  the  evening  in  the  Doctor's  study, 
for  on  this  point  Rebecca  was  inexorable. 

"  A'  dinna  say  that  they  wud  read  the  Doctor's  letters, 
an'  a'  dinna  say  they  wud  tak  a  buke  as  a  keepsake,  but 
a'  can  never  forget  ane  o'  them  —  he  hed  a  squint  and 
red  hair  —  comin'  oot  frae  the  cupboard  as  a'  opened 
the  door. 

" '  There 's  juist  ae  wy  oot  o'  the  room,  an'  it 's  by  the 
door  ye  cam  in  at,'  a'  said ;  '  maybe  ye  wud  like  tae 
come  an'  sit  in  the  dinin'-room  ;  ye  '11  be  less  dis- 
trackit.'  "  And  Rebecca  charged  John  that  no  proba- 
tioner should  in  future  be  allowed  to  enter  the  Doctor's 
sanctum  on  any  consideration. 

John's  excuse  for  his  solitary  fault  was  that  the  lad 
thought  that  he  could  study  his  sermon  better  with 
books  round  him,  and  so  Rebecca  found  the  young  gen- 
tleman seated  in  the  Doctor's  own  chair  and  working 
with  the  Doctor's  own  pen,  unblushing  and  shameless. 

"Gin  ye  want  Cruden's  Concordance"  —  this  was 
when  Rebecca  had  led  him  out  a  chastened  man  —  "  or 


JOINT  POTENTATES.  219 

Matthew  Henry  tae  fill  up  yir  sermon,  the  books  '11  be 
brocht  by  the  church  officer." 

Rebecca's  intrusion,  in  turn,  into  John's  sphere  was 
quite  without  excuse,  and  she  could  only  explain  her 
conduct  by  a  general  reference  to  the  foolishness  of  the 
human  heart.  It  came  out  through  the  ingenuousness 
of  the  probationer,  who  mentioned  casually  that  he  was 
told  Drumtochty  liked  four  heads  in  the  sermon. 

"May  I  ask  the  name  of  yir  adviser?"  said  the 
beadle,  with  awful  severity.  "  The  hoosekeeper  ?  A' 
thocht  so,  an'  a'  wud  juist  gie  ye  due  intimation  that  the 
only  person  qualified  an'  entitled  tae  gie  ye  information 
on  sic  subjects  is  masel',  an'  ony  ither  is  unjustified  an' 
unwarranted. 

"  Power  heads?  Three  an'  an  application  is  the 
Doctor's  invariable  rule,  an'  gin  a  probationer  gied  oot  a 
fourth,  a'  winna  undertake  tae  say  what  michtna  happen. 
Drumtochty  is  no  a  pairish  tae  trifle  wi',  an'  it  disna  like 
new-fangled  wys.  Fower ! "  and  the  scorn  for  this 
unorthodox  division  was  withering. 

Rebecca  realised  the  gravity  of  the  situation  in  the 
kitchen,  and  humbled  herself  greatly. 

"  It  wes  as  a  hearer  that  he  askit  ma  opinion,  an'  no 
as  an  authority.  He  said  that  the  new  wy  wes  tae  leave 
oot  heads,  an'  a'  saw  a'  the  hay  spread  oot  across  the 
field,  so  a'  told  him  tae  gither  it  up  intae  '  coles  '  (hay- 
cocks), an'  it  wud  be  easier  lifted.  Maybe  a'  mentioned 
fower  —  a  '11  no  deny  it ;  but  it 's  the  first  time  a'  ever 
touched  on  heads,  an'  it  '11  be  the  laist." 

Upon  those  terms  of  penitence,  John  granted  pardon, 
but  it  was  noticed  on  Sabbath  that  when  Becca  got  in 
the  way  of  the  retiring  procession  to  the  manse,  the 
beadle  was  heard  in  the  kirkyard,  "  Oot  o'  ma  road, 


220  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

wumman,"  in  a  tone  that  was  full  of  judgment,  and  that 
Rebecca  withdrew  to  the  grass  as  one  justly  punished. 

This  excellent  woman  once  accomplished  her  will, 
however,  in  spite  of  John,  and  had  all  her  days  the 
pleasant  relish  of  a  secret  triumph.  Her  one  unfulfilled 
desire  was  to  see  the  Doctor  in  his  court  dress  which  he 
wore  as  Moderator  of  the  Kirk  of  Scotland  during  the 
Assembly  time,  and  which  had  lain  ever  since  in  a  box 
with  camphor  and  such  preservatives  amid  the  folds. 
It  was  aggravating  to  hear  Drumsheugh  and  Hillocks  — 
who  had  both  gone  to  the  Assembly  that  year  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  watching  the  Doctor  enter  and  bow  to  the 
standing  house  —  enlarging  on  his  glory  in  velvet  and 
lace  and  silver  buckles,  and  growing  in  enthusiasm  with 
the  years. 

"  It 's  little  better  than  a  sin,"  she  used  to  insist, 
"  tae  see  the  bonnie  suit  gien  the  Doctor  by  the  Countess 
o'  Kilspindie,  wi'  dear  knows  hoo  much  o'  her  ain  auld 
lace  on  't,  lyin'  useless,  wi'  naebody  tae  get  a  sicht  o 't  on 
his  back.  Dinna  ye  think,  man  "  —  this  with  much  per- 
suasiveness —  "  that  ye  cud  get  the  Doctor  tae  pit  on  his 
velvets  on  an  occasion,  maybe  a  Saicrament?  The 
pairish  wud  be  lifted  ;  an'  ye  wud  look  weel  walkin'  afore 
him  in  his  lace." 

"  Dinna  plead  wi'  me,  wumman ;  a'  wud  gie  a  half- 
year's  wages  tae  see  him  in  his  grandeur ;  but  it 's 
offeecial,  div  ye  no  see,  an'  canna  be  used  except  by  a 
Moderator.  Na,  na,  ye  can  dust  and  stroke  it,  but  ye  '11 
never  see  yon  coat  on  the  Doctor." 

This  was  little  less  than  a  challenge  to  a  woman  of 
spirit,  and  Rebecca  simply  lived  from  that  day  to  clothe 
the  Doctor  in  embroidered  garments.  Her  opportunity 
arrived  when  Kate's  birthday  came  round,  and  the 


JOINT   POTENTATES.  221 

Doctor  insisted  on  celebrating  it  by  a  party  of  four.  By 
the  merest  accident  his  housekeeper  met  Miss  Carnegie 
on  the  road,  and  somehow  happened  to  describe  the 
excellent  glory  of  the  Doctor's  full  dress,  whereupon  that 
wilful  young  woman  went  straight  to  the  manse,  nor  left 
till  the  Doctor  had  promised  to  dine  in  ruffles,  in  which 
case  she  pledged  herself  that  the  General  would  come 
in  uniform,  and  she  would  wear  the  family  jewels,  so 
that  everything  would  be  worthy  of  the  Doctor's  dinner. 
"  Hoo  daur  ye,"  began  John,  coming  down  from  the 
Doctor's  room,  where  the  suit  was  spread  upon  the  bed ; 
but  his  wife  did  not  allow  him  to  continue,  explaining 
that  the  thing  was  none  of  her  doing,  and  that  it  was 
only  becoming  that  honour  should  be  shown  to  Miss 
Carnegie  when  she  dined  for  the  first  time  at  the  manse 
of  Drumtochty. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

DRIED   ROSE    LEAVES. 

OWNSPEOPLE  are  so 
clever,  and  know  so  much, 
that  it  is  only  just  some- 
thing should  be  hidden 
from  their  sight,  and  it  is 
quite  certain  that  they  do 
not  understand  the  irre- 
sistible and  endless  fas- 
cination of  the  country. 
They  love  to  visit  us  in  early  autumn, 
and  are  vastly  charmed  with  the 
honeysuckle  in  the  hedges,  and  the 
corn  turning  yellow,  and  the  rivers 
singing  in  the  sunlight,  and  the  pur- 
ple on  the  hill-side.  It  is  then  that 
the  dweller  in  cities  resolves  to  retire,  as  soon  as 
may  be,  from  dust  and  crowds  and  turmoil  and  hurry, 
to  some  cottage  where  the  scent  of  roses  comes  in  at  the 
open  window,  and  one  is  wakened  of  a  morning  by  the 
birds  singing  in  the  ivy.  When  the  corn  is  gathered 
into  the  stack-yard,  and  the  leaves  fall  on  the  road,  and 
the  air  has  a  touch  of  frost,  and  the  evenings  draw  in, 
then  the  townsman  begins  to  shiver  and  bethink  him  of 
his  home.  He  leaves  the  fading  glory  with  a  sense  of 


DRIED   ROSE   LEAVES.  223 

relief,  like  one  escaping  from  approaching  calamity,  and 
as  often  as  his  thoughts  turn  thither,  he  pities  us  in  our 
winter  solitude.  "  What  a  day  this  will  be  in  Drum- 
tochty,"  he  says,  coming  in  from  the  slushy  streets,  and 
rubbing  his  hands  before  the  fire. 

This  good  man  is  thankful  to  Providence  for  very 
slight  mercies,  since  he  knows  only  one  out  of  the  four 
seasons  that  make  our  glorious  year.  He  had  been  wise 
to  visit  us  in  the  summer-time,  when  the  light  hardly 
dies  out  of  the  Glen,  and  the  grass  and  young  corn  pre- 
sents six  shades  of  green,  and  the  scent  of  the  hay  is 
everywhere,  and  all  young  creatures  are  finding  them- 
selves with  joy.  Perhaps  he  had  done  better  to  have 
come  north  in  our  spring-time,  when  nature,  throwing  off 
the  yoke  of  winter,  bursts  suddenly  into  an  altogether 
indescribable  greenery,  and  the  primroses  are  bloom- 
ing in  Tochty  woods,  and  every  cottage  garden  is 
sweet  with  wallflowers,  and  the  birds  sing  of  love  in 
every  wood,  and  the  sower  goes  forth  to  sow.  And 
though  this  will  appear  quite  incredible,  it  had  done  this 
comfortable  citizen  much  good  to  have  made  his  will,  and 
risked  his  life  with  us  in  the  big  snowstorm  that  used  to 
shut  us  up  for  fourteen  days  every  February.  One  might 
well  endure  many  hardships  to  stand  on  the  side  of  Ben 
Urtach,  and  see  the  land  one  glittering  expanse  of  white 
on  to  the  great  strath  on  the  left,  and  the  hills  above 
Dunleith  on  the  right,  to  tramp  all  day  through  the  dry, 
crisp  snow,  and  gathering  round  the  wood  fire  of  an 
evening,  tell  pleasant  tales  of  ancient  days,  while  the 
wind  powdered  the  glass  with  drift,  and  roared  in  the 
chimney.  Then  a  man  thanked  God  that  he  was  not 
confined  to  a  place  where  the  pure  snow  was  trodden 
into  mire,  and  the  thick  fog  made  it  dark  at  mid-day. 


224  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

This  very  season  of  autumn,  which  frightened  the 
townsfolk,  and  sent  them  home  in  silence,  used  to  fill  our 
hearts  with  peace,  for  it  was  to  us  the  crown  and  triumph 
of  the  year.  We  were  not  dismayed  by  the  leaves  that 
fell  with  rustling  sound  in  Tochty  woods,  nor  by  the  bare 
stubble  fields  from  which  the  last  straw  had  been  raked 
by  thrifty  hands,  nor  by  the  touch  of  cold  in  the  north- 
west wind  blowing  over  Ben  Urtach,  nor  by  the  greyness 
of  the  running  water.  The  long  toil  of  the  year  had  not 
been  in  vain,  and  the  harvest  had  been  safely  gathered. 
The  clump  of  sturdy  little  stacks,  carefully  thatched  and 
roped,  that  stood  beside  each  homestead,  were  the  visible 
fruit  of  the  long  year's  labour,  and  the  assurance  of  plenty 
against  winter.  Let  it  snow  for  a  week  on  end,  and  let 
the  blast  from  the  mouth  of  Glen  Urtach  pile  up  the 
white  drift  high  against  the  outer  row  of  stacks,  the 
horses  will  be  put  in  the  mill-shed,  and  an  inner  stack 
will  be  forked  into  the  threshing  loft,  and  all  day  long  the 
mill  will  go  with  dull,  rumbling  sound  that  can  be  heard 
from  the  road,  while  within  the  grain  pours  into  the  corn- 
room,  and  the  clean  yellow  straw  is  piled  in  the  barn. 
Hillocks  was  not  a  man  given  to  sentiment,  yet  even  he 
would  wander  among  the  stacks  on  an  October  evening, 
and  come  into  the  firelight  full  of  moral  reflections.  A 
vague  sense  of  rest  and  thankfulness  pervaded  the  Glen, 
as  if  one  had  come  home  from  a  long  journey  in  safety, 
bringing  his  possessions  with  him. 

The  spirit  of  October  was  on  the  Doctor  as  he  waited 
for  his  guests  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  manse.  The 
Doctor  had  a  special  affection  for  the  room,  and  would 
often  sit  alone  in  it  for  hours  in  the  gloaming.  Once 
Rebecca  came  in  suddenly,  and  though  the  light  was 
dim  and  the  Doctor  was  seated  in  the  shadow  by  the 


DRIED   ROSE   LEAVES.  225 

piano,  she  was  certain  that  he  had  been  weeping.  He 
would  not  allow  any  change  to  be  made  in  the  room, 
even  the  shifting  of  a  table,  and  he  was  very  particulai 
about  its  good  keeping.  Twice  a  year  Rebecca  polished 
the  old-fashioned  rosewood  furniture,  and  so  often  a  mar 
came  from  Muirtown  to  tune  the  piano,  which  none  in 
the  district  could  play,  and  which  the  Doctor  kept 
locked.  Two  little  pencil  sketches,  signed  with  a  child- 
ish hand,  Daisy  Davidson,  the  minister  always  dusted 
himself,  as  also  a  covered  picture  on  the  wall,  and  the 
half-yearly  cleaning  of  the  drawing-room  was  con- 
cluded when  he  arranged  on  the  backs  of  two  chairs  one 
piece  of  needlework  showing  red  and  white  roses,  and 
another  whereon  was  wrought  a  posy  of  primroses.  The 
room  had  a  large  bay  window  opening  on  the  lawn,  and 
the  Doctor  had  a  trick  of  going  out  and  in  that  way,  so 
that  he  often  had  ten  minutes  in  its  quietness ;  but  no 
visitor  was  taken  there,  except  once  a  year,  when  the 
wife  of  the  Doctor's  old  friend,  Lord  Kilspindie,  drove 
up  to  lunch,  and  the  old  man  escorted  her  ladyship 
round  the  garden  and  brought  her  in  by  the  window. 
On  that  occasion,  but  only  then,  the  curtain  was  lifted 
from  the  picture,  and  for  a  brief  space  they  stood  in 
silence.  Then  he  let  the  silken  veil  fall  and  gently 
arranged  its  folds,  and  offering  her  his  arm  with  a  very 
courtly  bow,  led  the  Countess  into  the  dining-room, 
where  Rebecca  had  done  her  best,  and  John  waited  in 
fullest  Sabbath  array. 

The  Doctor  wandered  about  the  room  —  looking  out 
on  the  garden,  mysterious  in  the  fading  light,  changing 
the  position  of  a  chair,  smoothing  the  old-fashioned 
needlework  with  caressing  touch,  breaking  up  a  log  in 
the  grate.  He  fell  at  last  into  a  revery  before  the  fire 


THE   OLD    MAN    ESCORTED    HER    LADYSHIP. 


DRIED    ROSE    LEAVES.  227 

—  which  picked  out  each  bit  of  silver  on  his  dress  and 
shone  back  from  the  black  velvet  —  and  heard  nothing, 
till  John  flung  open  the  door  and  announced  with  im- 
mense majesty,  "  General  Carnegie  and  Miss  Carnegie." 

"  Welcome,  Kate,  to  the  house  of  your  father's  friend, 
and  welcome  for  your  own  sake,  and  many  returns  of  this 
day.  May  I  say  how  that  white  silk  and  those  rubies  be- 
come you  ?  It  is  very  kind  to  put  on  such  beautiful  things 
for  my  poor  little  dinner.  As  for  you,  Jack,  you  are 
glorious,"  and  the  Doctor  must  go  over  Carnegie's  medals 
till  that  worthy  and  very  modest  man  lost  all  patience. 

"  No  more  of  this  nonsense ;  but,  Sandie,  that  is  a 
desperately  becoming  get-up  of  yours ;  does  n't  he  suit 
it  well,  Kit?  I  never  saw  a  better  calf  on  any  man." 

"  You  are  both  '  rael  bonnie,'  and  ought  to  be  very 
grateful  to  me  for  insisting  on  full  dress.  I  'm  sorry  that 
there  is  only  one  girl  to  admire  two  such  handsome 
men ;  it 's  a  poor  audience,  but  at  any  rate  it  is  very 
appreciative  and  grateful,"  and  Kate  courtsied  to  each  in 
turn,  for  all  that  evening  she  was  in  great  good-humour. 

"  By  the  way,  there  will  be  one  more  to  laugh  at  us, 
for  I  Ve  asked  the  Free  Kirk  minister  to  make  a  fourth 
for  our  table.  He  is  a  nice  young  fellow,  with  more 
humanity  than  most  of  his  kind ;  but  did  not  I  hear  that 
he  called  at  the  Lodge  to  pay  his  respects?" 

'•  Certainly  he  did,"  said  the  General,  "and  I  rather 
took  a  fancy  to  him.  He  has  an  honest  eye  and  is  not 
at  all  bad-looking,  and  tells  a  capital  story.  But  Kit  fell 
upon  him  about  something,  and  I  had  to  cover  him. 
It's  a  wonder  that  he  ever  came  near  the  place  again." 

"  He  has  been  at  the  Lodge  eight  times  since  then," 
explained  Kate,  with  much  composure  ;  "  but  he  will  on 
no  account  be  left  alone  with  the  head  of  the  household. 


228  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

The  General  insulted  him  on  politics,  and  I  had  to  in- 
terfere ;  so  he  looks  on  me  as  a  kind  of  protector,  and 
I  walk  him  out  to  the  Beeches  lest  he  be  massacred." 

"Take  care,  my  dear  Catherine,"  for  the  Doctor  was 
a  shrewd  old  gentleman ;  "  protecting  comes  perilously 
near  loving,  and  Carmichael's  brown  eyes  are  dangerous." 

"  They  are  dark  blue."  Kate  was  off  her  guard,  and 
had  no  sooner  spoken  than  she  blushed,  whereat  the 
Doctor  laughed  wickedly. 

"You  need  not  be  afraid  for  Kate,"  said  the  General, 
cheerfully ;  "  no  man  can  conquer  her ;  and  as  for  the 
poor  young  padres,  she  made  their  lives  miserable." 

"They  were  so  absurd,"  said  Kate,  "so  innocent,  so 
ignorant,  so  authoritative,  that  it  was  for  their  good  to  be 
reduced  to  a  proper  level.  But  I  rather  think  your  guest 
has  forgotten  his  engagement.  He  will  be  so  busy  with 
his  book  that  even  a  manse  dinner  will  have  no  attrac- 
tion." The  Doctor  looked  again  at  Kate,  but  now  she 
wore  an  air  of  great  simplicity. 

It  was  surely  not  Carmichael's  blame  that  he  was  late 
for  Dr.  Davidson's  dinner,  since  he  had  thought  of 
nothing  else  since  he  rose,  which  was  at  the  unearthly  hour 
of  six.  He  went  out  for  a  walk,  which  consisted  of  one 
mile  east  and  another  west  from  the  village,  and,  with 
pauses,  during  which  he  rested  on  gates  and  looked  from 
him,  lasted  two  hours.  On  his  return  he  explained  to 
Sarah  that  his  health  had  received  much  benefit,  and 
that  she  was  not  to  be  surprised  if  he  went  out  every 
morning  at  or  before  daybreak.  He  also  mentioned 
casually  that  he  was  to  dine  at  the  manse  that  day,  and 
Sarah,  who  had  been  alarmed  lest  this  unexpected  virtue 
might  mean  illness,  was  at  rest.  His  habit  was  to  linger 
over  breakfast,  propping  a  book  against  the  sugar  basin, 


DRIED    ROSE    LEAVES.  229 

and  taking  it  and  his  rasher  slice  about,  which  was,  he 
insisted,  the  peculiar  joy  of  a  bachelor's  breakfast ;  but 
this  morning  Sarah  found  him  at  ten  o'clock  still  at  table, 
gazing  intently  at  an  untouched  cutlet,  and  without  any 
book.  He  swallowed  two  mouthfuls  hurriedly  and  has- 
tened to  the  study,  leaving  her  to  understand  that  he  had 
been  immersed  in  a  theological  problem.  It  seemed 
only  reasonable  that  a  man  should  have  one  pipe  before 
settling  down  to  a  forenoon  of  hard  study,  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  wreaths  of  smoke,  as  they  float  upwards, 
take  fantastic  shapes,  and  lend  themselves  to  visions. 
Twelve  o'clock  —  it  was  outrageous  —  six  hours  gone 
without  a  stroke  of  work.  Sarah  is  informed  that,  as  he 
has  a  piece  of  very  stiff  work  to  do,  luncheon  must  be 
an  hour  later,  and  that  the  terrier  had  better  go  out  for  a 
walk.  Then  Carmichael  cleared  his  table  and  set  him- 
self down  to  a  new  German  critic,  who  was  doing  mar- 
vellous things  with  the  Prophet  Isaiah.  In  three  thick 
volumes  —  paper  bound  and  hideous  to  behold  —  and 
in  a  style  of  elaborate  repulsiveness,  Schlochenboshen 
showed  that  the  book  had  been  written  by  a  syndicate, 
on  the  principle  that  each  member  contributed  one 
verse  in  turn,  without  reference  to  his  neighbours.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  simple  plan  of  a  children's  game,  in 
which  you  write  a  noun  and  I  an  adjective,  and  the 
result  greatly  pleases  the  company;  and  the  theory  of 
the  eminent  German  was  understood  to  throw  a  flood 
of  light  on  Scripture.  Schlochenboshen  had  already  dis- 
covered eleven  alternating  authors,  and  as  No.  4  would 
occasionally,  through  pure  perversity  and  just  contrary 
to  rules,  pool  his  contribution  with  No.  6,  several 
other  interesting  variations  were  introduced.  In  such 
circumstances  one  must  fix  the  list  of  authors  in  his 


23o  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

head,  and  this  can  be  conveniently  done  by  letters  of 
the  alphabet.  Carmichael  made  a  beginning  with  four, 
KATE,  and  then  he  laid  down  his  pen  and  went  out  for 
a  turn  in  the  garden.  When  he  came  in  with  a  resolute 
mind,  he  made  a  precis  of  the  Professor's  introduction, 
and  it  began,  "Dear  Miss  Carnegie,"  after  which  he  went 
to  lunch  and  ate  three  biscuits.  As  for  some  reason  his 
mind  could  not  face  even  the  most  fascinating  German, 
Carmichael  fell  back  on  the  twelve  hundredth  book  on 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  which  had  just  come  from  the 
library,  and  which  was  to  finally  vindicate  that  very 
beautiful,  very  clever,  and  very  perplexing  young  woman. 
An  hour  later  Carmichael  was  on  the  moor,  full  of  an 
unquenchable  pity  for  Chatelard,  who  had  loved  the  sun 
and  perished  in  his  rays.  The  cold  wind  on  the  hill 
braced  his  soul,  and  he  returned  in  a  heroic  mood.  He 
only  was  the  soldier  of  the  Cross,  who  denied  himself  to 
earthly  love  and  hid  a  broken  heart.  And  now  he  read 
A  Kempis  and  the  Christian  Year.  Several  passages  in 
the  latter  he  marked  in  pencil  with  a  cross,  and  when 
his  wife  asked  him  the  reason  only  last  week,  he  smiled, 
but  would  give  no  answer.  Having  registered  anew  his 
vow  of  celibacy,  he  spent  an  hour  in  dressing,  an  op- 
eration, he  boasted,  which  could  be  performed  in  six 
minutes,  and  which,  on  this  occasion,  his  housekeeper 
determined  to  review. 

With  all  the  women  in  the  Glen,  old  and  young,  she 
liked  the  lad,  for  a  way  that  he  had  and  the  kindness  of 
his  heart,  and  was  determined  that  he  should  be  well 
dressed  for  once  in  his  life.  It  was  Sarah,  indeed,  that 
kept  Carmichael  late,  for  she  not  only  laid  out  his  things 
for  him  with  much  care  and  judgment,  but  on  sight  of 
the  wisp  of  white  round  his  neck  she  persuaded  him  to 


DRIED    ROSE    LEAVES.  231 

accept  her  services,  and  at  last  she  was  satisfied.  He 
also  lost  a  little  time  as  he  came  near  the  manse,  for  he 
grew  concerned  lest  his  tie  was  not  straight,  and  it  takes 
time  to  examine  yourself  in  the  back  of  your  watch, 
when  the  light  is  dimming  and  it  is  necessary  to  retire 
behind  a  hedge  lest  some  keen  Drumtochty  eye  should 
detect  the  roadside  toilet. 

John  had  brought  in  the  lamp  before  Carmichael 
entered,  and  his  confusion  was  pardonable,  for  he  had 
come  in  from  the  twilight,  and  none  could  have  expected 
such  a  sight. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Carmichael  "  —  the  Doctor  hastened 
to  cover  his  embarrassment.  "  It  is  very  good  of  you  to 
honour  my  little  party  by  your  presence.  You  know  the 
General,  I  think,  and  Miss  Carnegie,  whose  first  birthday 
in  Drumtochty  we  celebrate  to-night. 

"  No  wonder  you  are  astonished,"  for  Carmichael  was 
blushing  furiously;  "and  I  must  make  our  defence,  eh, 
Carnegie?  else  it  will  be  understood  in  Free  Kirk  circles 
that  the  manse  is  mad.  We  seem,  in  fact,  a  pair  of  old 
fools,  and  you  can  have  your  jest  at  us ;  but  there  is  an 
excuse  even  for  our  madness. 

"It  is  long  since  we  have  had  a  young  lady  in  our 
Glen,  and  now  that  she  has  come  to  live  among  us  — 
why,  sir,  we  must  just  do  her  bidding. 

"  Our  Queen  has  but  a  little  court,  but  her  courtiers 
are  leal  and  true ;  and  when  she  ordered  full  dress,  it 
was  our  joy  to  obey.  And  if  you  choose  to  laugh,  young 
sir  —  why,  you  may ;  we  are  not  ashamed  with  such  a 
Queen,  and  I  do  her  homage." 

The  Doctor  stooped  and  kissed  Kate's  hand  in  the 
grand  manner  which  is  now  lost,  after  which  he  drew  out 
his  snuff-box  and  tapped  it  pleasantly,  as  one  who  had 


232  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

taken  part  in  a  state  function ;  but  there  was  the  sus- 
picion of  a  tear  in  his  eye,  for  these  things  woke  old 
memories. 

"  Kate  's  a  vvilfu'  lassie,"  said  the  General,  fondly,  "and 
she  has  long  ruled  me,  so  I  suppose  her  father  must 
do  likewise."  And  the  General  also  kissed  Kate's  hand. 

"You  are  both  perfectly  absurd  to-night,"  said  Kate, 
confused  and  red,  "  but  no  Queen  ever  had  truer  hearts 
to  love  her,  and  if  I  cannot  make  you  knights,  I  must 
reward  you  as  I  can."  And  Kate,  ignoring  Carmichael, 
kissed  first  her  father  and  then  the  Doctor.  Then  she 
turned  on  him  with  a  proud  air,  "  What  think  you  of  my 
court,  Mr.  Carmichael?  " 

"  It  is  the  best  in  Christendpm,  Miss  Carnegie  "  —  and 
his  voice  trembled  with  earnestness  —  "  for  it  has  the 
fairest  Queen  and  two  gentlemen  of  Christ  for  its  ser- 
vants." 

"Very  prettily  said  "  —  the  Doctor  thought  the  little 
scene  had  gone  far  enough  —  "  and  as  a  reward  for  that 
courteous  speech  you  shall  take  Her  Majesty  in  to  dinner, 
and  we  old  battered  fellows  shall  follow  in  attendance." 
There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  Carmichael 
spoke. 

"  If  I  had  only  known,  Miss  Carnegie,  that  I  might 
have  .  .  .  put  on  something  to  do  you  honour  too,  but 
I  have  nothing  except  a  white  silk  hood.  I  wish  I  had 
been  a  Militiaman  or  ...  a  Freemason." 

"  This  is  your  second  remarkable  wish  in  my  hearing," 
and  Kate  laughed  merrily ;  "  last  time  you  wished  you 
were  a  dog  on  Muirtown  platform.  Your  third  will  be 
your  last,  I  suppose,  and  one  wonders  what  it  will  be." 

"  It  is  already  in  my  heart  "  —  Carmichael  spoke  low 
—  "  and  some  day  I  will  dare  to  tell  it  to  you." 


DRIED   ROSE   LEAVES.  233 

"Hush,"  replied  Kate  quickly,  lifting  her  hand;  "the 
padre  is  going  to  say  grace."  As  this  was  an  official 
function  in  John's  eyes,  that  worthy  man  allowed  himself 
to  take  a  general  view,  and  he  was  pleased  to  express  his 
high  approval  of  the  company,  enlarging  especially  on 
Carmichael,  whom,  as  a  Free  Kirkman,  he  had  been 
accustomed  rather  to  belittle. 

"Of  coorse,"  he  explained  loyally,  "he's  no  tae  be 
compared  wi'  the  Doctor,  for  there's  nae  minister  oot- 
side  the  Auld  Kirk  can  hae  sic  an  air,  and  he  's  no  set 
up  like  the  General,  but  he  lookit  weel  an'  winsome. 

"  His  hair  wes  flung  back  frae  his  forehead,  his  een 
were  fair  danciiv!,  an'  there  wes  a  bit  o'  colour  in  his 
cheek.  He  hes  a  \vy  wi'  him,  a  '11  no  deny,  'at  taks  wi' 
fouk. 

"  A  'm  no  sure  that  he  's  been  at  mony  denners  though, 
Becca,  for  he  hardly  kent  what  he  wes  daein'.  A'  juist 
pit  the  potatoes  on  his  plate,  for  he  never  lat  on  he 
saw  me ;  an'  as  for  wine,  a'  cudna  get  a  word  oot  o' 
him." 

"  Ye  're  lifted  above  ordinary  concerns,  John,  an'  it 's 
no  tae  be  expeckit  that  a  beadle  sud  notice  the  way  o' 
a  lad  wi'  a  lass,"  and  Becca  nodded  her  head  with  much 
shrewdness. 

"  Div  ye  mean  that,  Rebecca?  That  cowes  a' ;  but 
it 's  no  possible.  The  General's  dochter  an'  a  Free  Kirk 
minister,  an'  her  an  Esculopian  —  " 

"  Love  kens  naither  rank  nor  creeds ;  see  what  ye  did 
yersel',  and  you  beadle  o'  Drumtochty ;  "  and  John  — 
every  man  has  some  weak  point  —  swallowed  the  com- 
pliment with  evident  satisfaction. 

Meanwhile  they  had  fallen  on  this  very  subject  of 
creeds  in  the  dining-room,  and  Kate  was  full  of  curiosity. 


234  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Will  you  two  padres  do  me  a  favour  ?  I  knew  you 
would.  Well,  I  want  to  know  for  certain  what  is  the 
difference  between  the  two  Kirks  in  Drumtochty.  Now 
which  of  you  will  begin?"  and  Kate  beamed  on  them 
both. 

"  Whatever  you  wish  we  will  do,  Kate,"  said  the 
Doctor ;  "  but  you  will  have  me  excused  in  this  matter, 
if  you  please,  and  hear  my  friend.  I  am  tired  of  con- 
troversy, and  he  has  a  fair  mind,  and,  as  I  know  well,  a 
pleasant  wit.  Tell  Miss  Carnegie  how  your  people  left 
the  Kirk  of  Scotland." 

"  Well,  the  dispute  began  "  —  and  Carmichael  faced 
his  task  manfully  —  "about  the  appointment  of  clergy- 
men, whether  it  should  lie  with  a  patron  or  the  people. 
Lord  Kilspindie  had  the  nomination  of  Drumtochty,  and 
if  every  patron  had  been  as  wise  as  our  house,  then  there 
had  been  no  Disruption." 

The  Doctor  bowed,  and  motioned  to  Carnegie  to 
fortify  himself  with  port. 

"  Other  patrons  had  no  sense,  and  put  in  unsuitable 
men,  and  the  people  rebelled,  since  it  is  a  sad  thing 
for  a  country  parish  to  have  a  minister  who  is  not  ..." 

"A  gentleman?  or  straight?  Quite  so,"  chimed  in 
Kate ;  "  it  must  be  beastly." 

"  So  a  party  fought  for  the  rights  of  the  people," 
resumed  Carmichael,  "  and  desired  that  the  parish  should 
have  a  voice  in  choosing  the  man  who  was  to  take  charge 
of  ...  their  souls." 

"Isn't  that  like  soldiers  electing  their  officers?" 
inquired  the  General,  doubtfully. 

"  Go  on,  Carmichael ;  you  are  putting  your  case 
capitally ;  don't  plunge  into  theology,  Jack,  whatever 
you  do  ...  it  is  Sandeman's  —  a  sound  wine." 


DRIED    ROSE    LEAVES.  235 

"Then  what  happened ?"  and  Kate  encouraged  Car- 
michael  with  her  eyes. 

"  Four  hundred  clergymen  threw  up  their  livings  one 
day  and  went  out  to  begin  a  Free  Kirk,  where  there  are 
no  patrons. 

"  You  have  no  idea  —  for  I  suppose  you  never  heard 
of  this  before  —  how  ministers  suffered,  living  and  dying 
in  miserable  cottages  —  and  the  people  met  for  service 
on  the  sea-shore  or  in  winter  storms  —  all  for  conscience 
sake." 

Carmichael  was  glowing,  and  the  Doctor  sipped  his 
port  approvingly. 

"  Perhaps  they  ought  not  to  have  seceded,  and  per- 
haps their  ideas  were  wrong ;  but  it  was  heroism,  and  a 
good  thing  for  the  land." 

"  It  was  splendid  !  "  Kate's  cheek  flushed.  "  And 
Drumtochty?  " 

"  Ah,  something  happened  here  that  was  by  itself  in 
Scotland.  Will  you  ask  Dr.  Davidson  not  to  interrupt 
or  browbeat  me  ?  Thank  you  ;  now  I  am  safe. 

"  Some  one  of  influence  went  to  old  Lord  Kilspindie, 
who  had  no  love  to  the  Free  Kirk,  and  told  him  that  a 
few  of  his  Drumtochty  men  wanted  to  get  a  site  for  a 
Free  Kirk,  and  that  he  must  give  it.  And  he  did." 

"Now,  Carmichael,"  began  the  Doctor,  who  had 
scented  danger;  but  Kate  held  up  her  hand  with  an 
imperious  gesture,  and  Carmichael  went  on  :  — 

"  The  same  person  used  to  send  to  the  station  for  the 
Free  Kirk  probationer,  and  entertain  him  after  a  lordly 
fashion  —  with  port,  if  he  were  worthy  —  and  send  him 
on  his  way  rejoicing  —  men  have  told  me.  But,"  con- 
cluded Carmichael,  averting  his  face  from  the  foot  of  the 
table,  "  wild  horses  will  not  compel  me  to  give  that  good 
Samaritan's  name." 


236  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"Was  it  you,  Davidson,  that  sanctioned  such  a  pro- 
ceeding? Why,  it  was  mutiny." 

"  Of  course  he  did,  dad,"  cried  Kate  ;  "just  the  very 
thing  he  would  do ;  and  so,  I  suppose,  the  Free  Kirk 
love  him  as  much  as  they  do  yourself,  sir?" 

"As  much?   far  more  ..." 

"  Had  I  known  what  downright  falsehood  the  Free 
Kirk  minister  of  Drumtochty  was  capable  of,  I  would 
never  have  allowed  him  to  open  his  mouth." 

"  Well,  I  am  satisfied,  at  any  rate,"  said  Kate,  "  and 
I  propose  to  retire  to  the  drawing-room,  and  I  know  who 
would  love  a  rubber  of  whist  by-and-by.  We  are  just  the 
number." 

A  minute  later  Carmichael  asked  leave  to  join  Kate, 
as  he  believed  she  was  to  have  him  for  partner,  and  he 
must  understand  her  game. 

"  How  adroit  he  is  to-night,  Jack ;  "  but  the  General 
rather  pitied  the  lad,  with  whom  he  imagined  Kate  was 
playing  as  a  cat  with  a  mouse. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  the  face  below  the  veil?"  for 
they  did  not  talk  long  about  whist  in  the  drawing-room. 
"  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  wrong  to  look,  for  the 
padre  told  me  the  story. 

"Yes,  a  very  winning  face.  His  only  sister,  and  he 
simply  lived  for  her.  She  was  only  twelve  when  she 
died,  and  he  loves  her  still,  although  he  hardly  ever 
speaks  of  her." 

They  stood  together  before  the  happy  girl-face  en- 
shrined in  an  old  man's  love.  They  read  the  inscrip- 
tion :  "  My  dear  sister  Daisy." 

"  I  never  had  a  sister,"  and  Carmichael  sighed. 

"  And  I  have  now  no  brother."  Their  hands  met  as 
they  gently  lowered  the  veil. 


DRIED    ROSE    LEAVES.  237 

"Well,  have  you  arranged  your  plans?"  and  the 
Doctor  came  in  intent  on  whist. 

"  Only  one  thing.  I  am  going  to  follow  Miss  Car- 
negie's lead,  and  she  is  always  to  win,"  said  the  Free 
Kirk  minister  of  Drumtochty. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

SMOULDERING    FIRES. 

T  is  the  right  of  every  Scot  — 
secured  to  him  by  the  Treaty 
of  Union  and  confirmed  by  the 
Disruption  —  to  criticise  his 
minister  with  much  freedom, 
but  this  privilege  is  exercised 
with  a  delicate  charity.  When 
it  is  not  possible  for  a  con- 
scientious hearer  to  approve  a 
sermon,  he  is  not  compelled 

/i.W«l    ••<>'m*'^mv~       to    condemnation.       "There 
/„•-   v/    "    "' frmi-  wes   naething   wrang   wi*    the 

text,"  affords  an  excellent  way 
of  escape,  and  it  is  open  to 
suggest  efficiency  in  another 
department  than  the  pulpit. 

"  Mister  MacWheep  michtna  be  a  special  preacher,  but 
there  's  nae  doot  he  wes  a  graund  veesitor."  Before 
Carmichael  left  the  West  Kirk,  Edinburgh,  where  he 
served  his  apprenticeship  as  an  assistant,  a  worthy  elder 
called  to  bid  him  good-bye,  and  spoke  faithfully,  to  the 
lad's  great  delight. 

"  You  have  been  very  acceptable,  wonderfully  so  for  a 
young  man,  and  we  shall  follow  your  career  with  much 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.          .       239 

interest.  It  is  right,  however,  to  add,  and  you  will  ac- 
cept this  in  a  right  spirit,  that  it  was  not  by  preaching 
that  you  commended  yourself  to  our  people,  but  by  your 
visiting.  Your  sermons  are  what  I  might  call  .  .  .  hazy 

—  you  will  get  a  hold  of  the  truth  by-and-by,  no  doubt 

—  but  you  have  a  gift  for  visitation." 

The  exact  quality  and  popularity  of  this  gift  was 
excellently  stated  by  the  wife  of  a  working  man,  who 
referred  with  enthusiasm  to  the  edifying  character  of  the 
assistant's  conversation. 

"Tammas  misses  Maister  Carmichael  juist  terrible,  for 
he  wud  come  in  on  a  forenicht  an'  sit,  an'  smoke,  an' 
haver  wi"  the  gude  man  by  the  'oor.  He  wes  the  maist 
divertin'  minister  a'  ever  saw  in  the  West  Kirk." 

It  will  be  evident  that  CarmichaeFs  visitation  belonged 
to  a  different  department  of  art  from  that  of  Dr.  David- 
son. He  arrived  without  intimation  by  the  nearest  way 
that  he  could  invent,  clothed  in  a  shooting  jacket  and  a 
soft  hat,  and  accompanied  by  at  least  two  dogs.  His 
coming  created  an  instant  stir,  and  Carmichael  plunged 
at  once  into  the  life  of  the  household.  It  is  kept  on  fond 
record,  and  still  told  by  the  surviving  remnant  of  his 
flock,  that  on  various  occasions  and  in  the  course  of  pas- 
toral visitation  he  had  turned  the  hay  in  summer,  had 
forked  the  sheaves  in  harvest-time,  had  sacked  the 
corn  for  market,  and  had  driven  a  gude  wife's  churn. 
After  which  honourable  toil  he  would  eat  and  drink  any- 
thing put  before  him  except  boiled  tea,  against  which 
he  once  preached  with  power  —  and  then  would  sit  inde- 
finitely with  the  family  before  the  kitchen  fire,  telling  tales 
of  ancient  history,  recalling  the  old  struggles  of  Scottish 
men,  describing  foreign  sights,  enlarging  on  new  books, 
till  he  would  remember  that  he  had  only  dropped  in  fur 


240  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

an  hour,  and  that  two  meals  must  be  waiting  for  him  at 
the  manse.  His  visits  were  understood  to  be  quite 
unfinished,  and  he  left  every  house  pledged  to  return 
and  take  up  things  at  the  point  where  he  had  been 
obliged  to  break  off,  and  so  he  came  at  last  in  this 
matter  of  visitation  into  a  condition  of  hopeless  insolv- 
ency. His  adventures  were  innumerable  and  always 
enjoyable  —  falling  off  the  two  fir  trees  that  made  a 
bridge  over  our  deeper  burns,  and  being  dried  at  the 
next  farm-house  —  wandering  over  the  moor  all  night 
and  turning  up  at  a  gamekeeper's  at  daybreak,  covered 
with  peat  and  ravening  with  hunger  —  fighting  his  way 
through  a  snowstorm  to  a  marriage,  and  digging  the 
bridegroom  out  of  a  drift  —  dodging  a  herd  of  Highland 
cattle  that  thought  he  had  come  too  near  their  calves,  or 
driving  off  Drumsheugh's  polled  Angus  bull  with  con- 
tumely when  he  was  threatening  Mrs.  Macfadyen.  If 
he  met  the  bairns  coming  from  school,  the  Glen  rang 
with  the  foolery.  When  Willie  Harley  broke  his  leg, 
Carmichael  brought  his  dog  Jackie  —  I  could  tell  things 
of  that  dog  —  and  devised  dramatic  entertainments  of 
such  attraction  that  Jamie  Soutar  declared  them  no  better 
than  the  theatre,  and  threatened  Carmichael  with  a  skep 
of  honey  as  a  mark  of  his  indignation.  As  for  the  old 
women  of  the  Glen,  he  got  round  them  to  that  extent  that 
they  would  gossip  with  him  by  the  hour  over  past  days, 
and  Betty  Macfarlane  was  so  carried  by  the  minister's 
sympathy  that  she  brought  out  from  hidden  places  some 
finery  of  her  youth,  and  Carmichael  was  found  by  Miss 
Carnegie  arranging  a  faded  Paisley  shawl  on  Betty's 
shoulders.  And  was  it  not  this  same  gay  Free  Kirkman 
who  trained  an  eleven  to  such  perfection  on  a  field  of 
Drumsheugh's  that  they  beat  the  second  eleven  of  Muir- 


SMOULDERING   FIRES. 


241 


town  gloriously  ?  on  which  occasion  Tammas  Mitchell,  by 
the  keenness  of  his  eye  and  the  strength  of  his  arm,  made 
forty-four  runs ;  and  being  congratulated  by  Drumtochty 
as  he  carried  his  bat,  opened  his  mouth  for  the  first  time 
that  day,  saying,  "  Awa  wi'  ye." 


WOULD   GOSSIP   WITH    HIM    BY   THE   HOUR. 


So  it  came  to  pass  that  notwithstanding  his  unholy 
tendency  to  Biblical  criticism  and  other  theological 
pedantry,  Drumtochty  loved  Carmichael  because  he 
was  a  man ;  and  Dr.  Davidson,  lighting  upon  him  in 
Hillocks'  garden,  with  the  family  round  him  full  of  joy, 
would  threaten  him  with  a  prosecution  for  poaching 

16 


242  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

under  the  ecclesiastical  Game  Laws,  and  end  by  insisting 
upon  him  coming  to  dinner  at  the  manse,  when  he 
might  explain  his  conduct.  Drumtochty  loved  him  for 
his  very  imperfections,  and  follows  his  career  unto  this 
day  with  undying  interest,  recalling  his  various  escapades 
with  huge  delight,  and  declaring  to  strangers  that  even  in 
his  callow  days  they  had  discovered  that  Carmichael  was 
a  preacher. 

Carmichael  had  occasional  fits  of  order,  when  he  re- 
pented of  his  desultory  ways,  and  began  afresh  with 
much  diligence,  writing  out  the  names  of  the  congrega- 
tion with  full  details  —  he  once  got  as  far  as  Menzies 
before  he  lost  the  book  —  mapping  the  parish  into 
districts,  and  planning  an  elaborate  visitation.  It  may 
have  been  an  accident  that  the  district  he  chose  for 
experiment  embraced  Tochty  Lodge  — where  the  Car- 
negies  had  just  settled  —  but  it  was  natural  that  his  first 
effort  should  be  thorough.  There  were  exactly  ten  Free 
Kirk  families  from  Tochty  Lodge  eastwards,  and  some  of 
these  still  speak  with  feeling  of  the  attention  they  re- 
ceived, which  exceeded  all  they  had  ever  known  before 
or  since. 

"  It  wesna  that  he  sat  sae  lang  as  a  Ve  heard  o*  him 
daein'  in  the  heich  Glen,  but  it  wes  the  times  he  cam',  " 
Mrs.  Stirton  used  to  expatiate,  "  maybe  twice  a  week  for 
a  month.  He  hed  a  wy  o'  comin'  through  Tochty 
Wood  —  the  shade  helpit  him  tae  study,  he  said  —  an' 
jumpin'  the  dyke.  Sail,  gin  he  dinna  mak  a  roadie  for 
himsel'  through  the  field  that  year.  A'  wudna  say,"  she 
used  to  add  in  a  casual  tone,  "but  that  he  micht  hae 
gi'en  a  cry  at  the  Lodge,  but  he  cudna  dae  less,  passin' 
the  door." 

Carmichael  was  astonished  himself  at  the  number  of 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.  243 

times  he  was  obliged  to  see  General  Carnegie  on  business, 
of  one  kind  or  another.  Sometimes  it  was  about  the 
Flower  Show,  of  which  the  General  had  become  a 
patron ;  sometimes  it  was  the  Highland  Games,  when 
the  General's  help  would  be  of  so  much  use ;  sometimes 
it  was  the  idea  of  repairing  the  old  bridge  ;  sometimes — 
and  Carmichael  blushed  when  it  came  to  this  —  to  get 
the  General's  opinion  on  a  military  question  in  the  Bible. 
The  least  he  could  do  in  laying  such  a  tax  on  a  good- 
natured  man  was  to  bring  a  book  for  his  daughter's  read- 
ing, or  a  curious  flower  he  had  picked  up  on  the  hill,  or 
a  story  he  had  heard  in  his  visiting.  Miss  Carnegie  was 
generally  gracious,  and  would  see  him  on  his  way  if  the 
day  were  fine,  or  show  him  some  improvements  in  the 
"  Pleasaunce,"  or  accompany  him  to  Janet's  cottage  to 
have  a  taste  of  that  original  woman's  conversation  to- 
gether. It  came  upon  Carmichael  at  a  time  that  he 
was,  inadvertently,  calling  too  frequently  at  the  Lodge, 
and  for  a  week  he  would  keep  to  the  main  road,  or  even 
pass  the  corner  of  the  Lodge  with  an  abstracted  air  — 
for  he  loathed  the  thought  of  being  deflected  from  the 
path  of  duty  by  any  personal  attraction — and  used  to 
change  the  subject  of  conversation  after  Janet  had  spoken 
for  half  an  hour  on  Kate. 

People  were  speculating  in  a  guarded  manner  regard- 
ing the  possibility  of  news,  and  Janet  had  quarrelled 
furiously  with  Donald  for  laughing  such  unworthy  rumours 
to  scorn,  when  the  parish  was  almost  convulsed  by  the 
historic  scene  in  the  Free  Kirk,  and  all  hope  of  a  roman- 
tic alliance  was  blasted.  Archie  Moncur,  elder,  and 
James  Macfadyen,  deacon,  were  counting  the  collection 
in  the  vestibule,  and  the  congregation  within  were  just 
singing  the  last  verse  of  their  first  psalm,  when  General 
Carnegie  and  his  daughter  appeared  at  the  door. 


244  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"Has  service  begun?"  whispered  Kate,  while  her 
father  reverently  bared  his  head.  "  I  'm  so  sorry  we  are 
'ate,  but  you  will  let  us  in,  won't  you,  and  we  shall  be  as 
quiet  as  mice." 

"  A  '11  open  the  door,"  and  Archie  explained  the 
geography  of  the  situation,  "  an'  ye  '11  juist  slip  intae  the 
manse  pew ;  it 's  in  the  corner,  wi'  curtains  roond  it,  an' 
naebody  '11  see  ye,  naither  minister  nor  people ;  "  and 
so  Carmichael  went  through  the  service,  and  had  almost 
reached  the  end  of  his  sermon  before  he  knew  that  Kate 
was  in  the  church. 

She  was  very  conscious  of  him  and  keenly  observant 
of  every  detail  —  his  white  silk  hood  thrown  into  relief 
by  the  black  Geneva  gown,  his  fair,  flushed  face  touched 
with  tenderness  and  reverence,  a  new  accent  of  affection 
in  his  voice  as  one  speaking  to  his  charge,  and  especially 
she  noted  in  this  Free  Kirkman  a  certain  fervour  and 
high  hope,  a  flavour  also  of  subtle  spirituality,  that  were 
wanting  in  Dr.  Davidson.  His  hair  might  have  been 
better  brushed,  and  his  whiskers  were  distinctly  ragged 
—  but  those  things  could  be  easily  put  right ;  then  she 
tossed  her  head  in  contempt  of  herself.  It  had  come  to 
a  fine  pass  when  a  girl  that  had  carried  her  heart  un- 
touched through  Simla  should  be  concerned  about  the 
appearance  of  a  Highland  minister.  The  General  was 
well  acquainted  with  that  proud  motion,  and  began  to 
regret  that  they  had  come.  It  was  Davidson's  blame, 
who  had  sent  them  to  hear  a  good  sermon  for  once,  as 
he  said,  and  now  Kate  would  only  find  material  for 
raillery.  He  tugged  his  moustache  and  wished  that  they 
were  again  in  the  open  air. 

When  the  sermon  came,  the  occupants  of  the  manse 
pew  composed  themselves  for  fifteen  minutes'  patient 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.  245 

endurance,  after  the  well-bred  fashion  of  their  Church, 
each  selecting  a  corner  with  a  skill  born  of  long  experi- 
ence. They  were  not,  however,  to  rest  in  peace  and 
detachment  of  mind  till  the  doxology  (or  its  correspond- 
ing formula  in  the  Scottish  Kirk)  summoned  them  back, 
for  this  was  to  be  a  quite  memorable  sermon  for  them 
and  their  fellow-hearers  and  all  Drumtochty. 

Carmichael  had  been  lecturing  through  Old  Testament 
history,  and  having  come  to  the  drama  of  Elijah  and 
Jezebel,  had  laid  himself  out  for  its  full  and  picturesque 
treatment.  He  was  still  at  that  age  when  right  seems  to 
be  all  on  one  side,  and  a  particular  cause  can  be  traced 
down  the  centuries  in  all  lands  and  under  all  conditions. 
For  the  most  part  of  two  days  he  had  wandered  over  the 
moor  in  the  bright,  cold  November  weather  reconstruct- 
ing the  scene  in  Israel  on  Scottish  lines,  and  he  entered 
the  pulpit  that  morning  charged  with  the  Epic  of  Puritan- 
ism. Acute  critics,  like  Elspeth  Macfadyen,  could  tell 
from  Carmichael's  walk  down  the  church  that  he  was  in 
great  spirits,  and  even  ordinary  people  caught  a  note 
of  triumph  in  his  voice  as  he  gave  out  the  first  Psalm. 
For  the  first  few  sentences  of  his  sermon  he  spoke  quietly, 
as  one  reserving  and  restraining  himself,  and  gave  a 
historical  introduction  which  allowed  the  General  to 
revive  some  ancient  memories  of  India  without  interrup- 
tion. But  Kate  caught  the  imperial  tone  of  one  who 
had  a  message  to  deliver  and  was  already  commanding 
people  to  listen.  She  was  conscious  of  a  certain  anxiety, 
and  began  to  wish  that  she  were  in  front  and  could 
see  his  face,  instead  of  only  the  side  of  his  head.  Then 
Carmichael  threw  back  his  hair  with  the  air  of  one  taking 
off  his  coat,  and  plunged  the  congregation  into  the  midst 
of  the  battle,  describing  Elijah's  forgetfulness  of  self,  pro- 


246  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

found  conviction  of  righteousness,  high  purpose  for  his 
nation  and  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Jehovah,  till  Burn- 
brae  and  the  Free  Kirkmen  straightened  themselves 
visibly  in  their  pews,  and  touching  so  skilfully  on  the 
Tyrian  princess  in  her  beauty,  her  culture,  her  bigotry, 
her  wiles,  her  masterfulness,  that  several  women  — 
greatly  delighting  in  the  exposure  of  such  a  "  trimmie  " 
—  nodded  approval.  Kate  had  never  given  herself  to  the 
study  of  Old  Testament  history,  and  would  have  had 
some  difficulty  in  identifying  Elijah  —  there  was  a  mare 
called  Jezebel  of  vicious  temper  —  but  she  caught  the 
contagion  of  enthusiasm.  If  the  supreme  success  of  a 
sermon  be  to  stimulate  the  hearer's  mind,  then  Carmichael 
ought  to  have  closed  at  this  point.  His  people  would 
have  been  all  the  week  fighting  battles  for  conscience 
sake,  and  resisting  smooth,  cunning  temptation  to  the 
farthest  limits  of  their  lives  and  in  unimaginable  ways. 
Kate  herself,  although  a  person  quite  unaffected  by 
preaching,  had  also  naturalised  the  sermon  in  her  life 
with  much  practical  and  vivid  detail.  Carmichael  was 
Elijah,  the  prophet  of  the  common  people,  with  his 
simple  ways  and  old-fashioned  notions  and  love  of  hard- 
ness, only  far  more  gentle  and  courteous  and  amusing 
than  that  uncompromising  Jew ;  and  she  —  why,  she 
would  be  Jezebel  just  for  the  moment,  who  had  come 
from  .  .  .  India  into  the  Glen,  and  could  bring  Elijah 
to  her  feet  if  she  chose,  and  make  him  do  her  will,  and 
then  .  .  .  The  girls  in  the  choir  before  the  pulpit 
noticed  the  look  on  Kate's  face,  and  wondered  whether 
the  Carnegies  would  join  the  Free  Kirk. 

Carmichael  had  an  instinct  that  he  ought  to  fling  over 
the  remaining  four  pages  of  his  sermon  and  close  the 
service  with  a  war  Psalm,  and  he  told  me  when  I  was 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.  247 

staying  with  him  last  week  that  he  sacrifices  the  last  head 
of  his  sermon  almost  every  Sunday  in  his  city  pulpit. 
But  he  was  only  a  lad  in  Drumtochty,  and  besides  was 
full  of  a  historical  parallel,  which  after  a  scientific  illus- 
tration is  most  irresistible  to  a  young  minister.  No  one 
had  ever  seen  it  before,  but  of  course  Elijah  was  John 
Knox,  and  Jezebel  was  Queen  Mary  of  Scots,  and  then 
Carmichael  set  to  work  afresh,  with  something  less 
than  conspicuous  success.  Scottish  people  are  always 
ready  for  a  eulogium  on  John  Knox  in  church,  or  on 
Robert  Burns  out  of  church,  but  the  Reformer  is  rather 
the  object  of  patriotic  respect  and  personal  devotion. 
Netherton  snuffed  in  quite  a  leisurely  way,  and  the  women 
examined  the  bonnet  of  the  manse  housekeeper,  while 
Knox  stood  in  the  breach  for  the  liberties  of  Scotland, 
and  when  Carmichael  began  to  meddle  with  Mary,  he 
distinctly  lost  the  sympathies  of  his  audience  and  en- 
tered on  dangerous  ground.  Scots  allow  themselves,  at 
times,  the  rare  luxury  of  being  illogical,  and  one  of  the 
occasions  is  their  fondness  for  Queen  Mary.  An  austere 
Puritan  may  prove  that  this  young  woman  was  French  in 
her  ways,  an  enemy  to  the  Evangel,  a  born  and  practised 
flirt,  and  art  and  part  in  the  murder  of  Darnley.  A  Scot 
will  not  deny  the  evidence,  and  if  he  be  thrust  into  the 
box  he  may  bring  in  the  prisoner  guilty,  but  his  heart  is 
with  the  condemned,  and  he  has  a  grudge  against  the 
prosecutor.  For  he  never  forgets  that  Mary  was  of  the 
royal  blood  and  a  thorough  Stewart,  that  her  face  turned 
men's  heads  in  every  country  she  touched,  that  she  had  the 
courage  of  a  man  in  her,  that  she  was  shamefully  used, 
and  if  she  did  throw  over  that  ill-conditioned  lad, 
well  ..."  Puir  lassie,  she  hed  naebody  tae  guide  her, 
but  sail,  she  focht  her  battle  weel,"  and  out  of  this  judg- 
ment none  can  drive  an  honest  Scot. 


248  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Yon  wes  a  graund  discoorse  the  day,  gude  wife," 
Jeems  hazarded  to  Elspeth  on  the  way  home,  "  but  a' 
thocht  the  minister  wes  a  wee  hard  on  Queen  Mary ; 
there  's  nae  doot  she  wes  a  papist,  an'  micht  hae  gien 
Knox  a  bit  twist  wi'  the  screws  gin  she  cud  hae  gruppit 
him,  but  a'  dinna  like  her  misca'd." 

"  A  've  heard  him  wi'  ma  ain  ears  crackin'  her  up  by 
the  'oor,  an'  a*  canna  mak'  oot  what  set  him  against  her 
the  day ;  but  he  's  young,"  remarked  Elspeth,  sagely, 
"  an'  wi'  his  age  it 's  either  saint  or  deevil,  an'  ae  day  the 
one  an'  the  next  day  the  ither;  there's  nae  medium. 
Noo,  maist  fouk  are  juist  half  an'  between,  an'  Mary  hed 
her  faults. 

"  Ma  word,  Jeems,"  continued  Elspeth  with  much 
relish,  "  Mary  vvud  sune  hae  settled  the  minister  gin  she 
hed  been  in  the  kirk  the  day." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  inquired  Jeems,  "  noo  what  wud  the  hizzie 
hae  dune?" 

"  She  wud  juist  hae  sent  for  him  an'  lookit  wi'  her 
een,  an'  askit  him  what  ill  he  hed  at  her,  an'  gin  that 
wesna  eneuch  she  wud  hae  pit  her  handkerchief  tae  her 
fact." 

"  Of  coorse  he  cudna  hae  stude  that ;  a'  micht  hae 
gien  in  masel',"  admitted  Jeems,  "but  Knox  wes 
stiff." 

"Maister  Carmichael  is  no  a  Knox,  naither  are  ye, 
Jeems,  an'  it 's  a  mercy  for  me  ye  arena.  Mary  wud  hae 
twistit  Maister  Carmichael  roond  her  finger,  but  a'm 
judgin'  he  '11  catch  it  as  it  is  afore  mony  days,  or  ma 
name  's  no  Elspeth  Macfadyen.  Did  ye  see  Miss  Car- 
negie rise  an'  gae  oot  afore  he  feenished?" 

"  Div  ye  mean  that,  Elspeth?"  and  her  husband  was 
amazed  at  such  penetration.  "  Noo  a'  thocht  it  hed 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.  249 

been  the  heat ;  a'  never  held  wi'  that  stove ;  it  draws  up 
the  air.  Hoo  did  ye  jalouse  yon?" 

"She  wes  fidgetin'  in  her  seat  when  he  yokit  on 
Mary,  an'  the  meenut  he  named  her  'our  Scottish 
Jezebel '  the  Miss  rose  an'  opened  the  seat  door  that 
calm,  a'  knew  she  wes  in  a  tantrum,  and  she  gied  him  a 
look  afore  she  closed  the  kirk  door  that  wud  hae  brocht 
ony  man  tae  his  senses. 

"  Jeems,"  went  on  Elspeth  with  solemnity,  "  a'  coont 
this  a  doonricht  calamity,  for  a'  wes  houpin'  he  wud  hae 
pleased  them  the  day,  an'  noo  a'm  sair  afraid  that  the 
minister  hes  crackit  his  credit  wi'  the  Lodge." 

"  Div  ye  think,  Elspeth,  he  saw  her  gang  oot  an'  sus- 
peckit  the  cause?" 

"  It 's  maist  michty  tae  hear  ye  ask  sic  a  question, 
Jeems.  What  gared  him  mak'  a  hash  o'  the  baptism 
prayer,  and  return  thanks  that  there  wes  a  leevin'  father, 
instead  o'  mither,  and  gie  oot  the  iO3rd  Paraphrase? 
Tak'  ma  word  for  't,  he  's  wishin'  by  this  time  that  he  'd 
lat  puir  Mary  alane." 

It  was  just  above  Hillocks'  farm  that  the  General  over- 
took Kate,  who  was  still  blazing. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  such  vulgar  abuse  and  .  .  .  abom- 
inable language  from  a  pulpit?  He's  simply  a  raging 
fanatic,  and  not  one  bit  better  than  his  Knox.  And  I 
...  we  thought  him  quite  different  .  .  .  and  a  gentleman. 
I  '11  never  speak  to  him  again.  Scottish  Jezebel :  I  sup- 
pose he  would  call  me  Jezebel  if  it  occurred  to  him." 

"  Very  likely  he  would,"  replied  the  General,  dryly, 
"  and  I  must  say  his  talk  about  Queen  Mary  seemed 
rather  bad  taste.  But  that 's  not  the  question,  Kate, 
which  is  your  conduct  in  leaving  a  place  of  worship  in 
such  an  ...  unladylike  fashion." 


250  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  What?  "  for  this  was  new  talk  from  her  father. 

"  As  no  Carnegie  ought  to  have  done.  You  have  for- 
gotten yourself  and  your  house,  and  there  is  just  one 
thing  for  you  to  do,  and  the  sooner  the  better." 

"  Father,  I  '11  never  look  at  him  again  .  .  .  and  after 
that  evening  at  Dr.  Davidson's,  and  our  talking  .  .  . 
about  Queen  Mary,  and  .  .  .  lots  of  things." 

"  Whether  you  meet  Mr.  Carmichael  again  or  not  is 
your  own  affair,  but  this  touches  us  both,  and  you  ." .  . 
must  write  a  letter  of  apology." 

"  And  if  I  don't?  "  said  Kate,  defiantly. 

"  Then  I  shall  write  one  myself  for  you.  A  Carnegie 
must  not  insult  any  man,  be  he  one  faith  or  the  other, 
and  offer  him  no  amends." 

So  Donald  handed  in  this  letter  at  the  Free  Kirk 
Manse  that  evening,  and  left  without  an  answer. 

TOCHTY  LODGE. 

SIR,  —  Your  violent  and  insolent  attack  on  a  martyred 
Queen  caused  me  to  lose  self-control  in  your  church  to-day, 
and  I  was  unable  to  sit  longer  under  such  language. 

It  has  been  pointed  out  to  me  that  I  ought  not  to  have 
left  church  as  I  did,  and  I  hereby  express  regret. 

The  books  you  were  so  good  as  to  lend  me  I  have  sent 
back  by  the  messenger.  —  Yours  truly, 

CATHERINE  CARNEGIE. 

When  Carmichael  called  next  day,  Donald  informed 
him  with  unconcealed  satisfaction  that  Lord  Hay  was 
lunching  with  the  family,  and  that  the  General  and  Miss 
Carnegie  were  going  to  Muirtown  Castle  to-morrow  for  a 
visit ;  but  Janet  had  not  lost  hope. 

"  Do  not  be  taking  this  to  heart,  my  dear,  for  I  will 
be  asking  a  question.  What  will  be  making  Miss  Kate 
so  very  angry?  it  is  not  every  man  she  would  be  mind- 


SMOULDERING   FIRES.  251 

ing,  though  he  spoke  against  Queen  Mary  all  the  day. 
When  a  woman  does  not  care  about  a  man  she  will  not 
take  the  trouble  to  be  angry.  That  is  what  I  am  think- 
ing ;  and  it  is  not  Lord  Hay  that  has  the  way,  oh  no, 
though  he  be  a  proper  man  and  good  at  shooting." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LOVE   SICKNESS. 

OLLEGE  friends  settled  in 
petty  lowland  towns,  and  meet- 
ing Carmichael  on  sacramental 
occasions,  affected  to  pity  him, 
inquiring  curiously  what  were 
his  means  of  conveyance  after 
the  railway  ceased,  what  time  a 
letter  took  to  reach  him,  whether  any 
foot  ever  crossed  his  door  from  October 
to  May,  whether  the  great  event  of  the 
week  was  not  the  arrival  of  the  bread 
cart.  Those  were  exasperating  gibes 
from  men  who  could  not  take  a  walk 
without  coming  on  a  coal  pit,  nor  lift  a 
book  in  their  studies  without  soiling 
their  hands,  whose  windows  looked  on  a  street  and  com- 
manded the  light  of  a  grocer's  shop  instead  of  a  sunset. 
It  ill  became  such  miserables  to  be  insolent,  and  Car- 
michael taught  them  humility  when  he  began  to  sound 
the  praises  of  Drumtochty ;  but  he  could  not  make 
townspeople  understand  the  unutterable  satisfaction  of 
the  country  minister,  who  even  from  old  age  and  great 
cities  looks  back  with  fond  regret  to  his  first  parish  on 
the  slope  of  the  Grampians.  Some  kindly  host  wrestles 
with  him  to  stay  a  few  days  more  in  civilisation,  and 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  253 

pledges  him  to  run  up  whenever  he  wearies  of  his  exile, 
and  the  ungrateful  rustic  can  hardly  conceal  the  joy  of 
his  escape.  He  shudders  on  the  way  to  the  station  at  the 
drip  of  the  dirty  sleet  and  the  rags  of  the  shivering  poor, 
and  the  restless  faces  of  the  men  and  the  unceasing  roar 
of  the  traffic.  Where  he  is  going  the  white  snow  is  fall- 
ing gently  on  the  road,  a  cart  full  of  sweet-smelling 
roots  is  moving  on  velvet,  the  driver  stops  to  exchange 
views  with  a  farmer  who  has  been  feeding  his  sheep, 
within  the  humblest  cottage  the  fire  is  burning  clearly. 
With  every  mile  northwards  the  Glenman's  heart  lifts ; 
and  as  he  lands  on  his  far-away  little  station,  he  draws  a 
deep  breath  of  the  clean,  wholesome  air.  It  is  a  long 
walk  through  the  snow,  but  there  is  a  kindly,  couthy 
smell  from  the  woods,  and  at  sight  of  the  squares  of  light 
in  his  home,  weariness  departs  from  a  Drumtochty  man. 
Carmichael  used  to  say  that  a  glimpse  of  Archie  Moncur 
sitting  with  his  sisters  before  the  fire  as  he  passed,  and 
the  wild  turmoil  of  his  dogs  within  the  manse  as  the 
latch  of  the  garden  gate  clicked,  and  the  flood  of  light 
pouring  out  from  the  open  door  on  the  garden,  where 
every  branch  was  feathered  with  snow,  and  to  come  into 
his  study,  where  the  fire  of  pine  logs  was  reflected  from 
the  familiar  titles  of  his  loved  books,  gave  him  a  shock 
of  joy  such  as  he  has  never  felt  since,  even  in  the  days  of 
his  prosperity. 

"  The  city  folk  are  generous  with  their  wealth,"  he 
was  saying  to  me  only  last  week,  when  I  was  visiting  him 
in  his  West  End  manse  and  we  fell  a-talking  of  the  Glen, 
"  and  they  have  dealt  kindly  by  me  ;  they  are  also  full  of 
ideas,  and  they  make  an  inspiring  audience  for  a  preacher. 
If  any  man  has  a  message  to  deliver  from  the  Eternal, 
then  he  had  better  leave  the  wilderness  and  come  to  the 


254 


KATE    CARNEGIE. 


city,  and  if  he  has  plans  for  the  helping  of  his  fellow  men, 
let  him  come  where  he  can  get  his  work  and  his  labourers. 


THE   DRIVER   STOPS   TO    EXCHANGE   VIEWS. 

"  No,  I  do  not  repent  leaving  the  Glen,  for  the  Divine 
Hand  thrust  me  forth  and  has  given  me  work  to  do,  and 
I  am  not  ungrateful  to  the  friends  I  have  made  in  the 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  255 

city;  but  God  created  me  a  countryman,  and" — here 
Carmichael  turned  his  back  to  me  —  "  my  heart  goes 
back  to  Drumtochty,  and  the  sight  of  you  fills  me  with 
.  .  .  longing. 

"Ah,  how  this  desiderium,  as  the  Rabbi  would  have 
said,  comes  over  one  with  the  seasons  as  they  come  and 
go.  In  spring  they  send  me  the  first  snowdrops  from 
the  Glen,  but  it  is  a  cruel  kindness,  for  I  want  to  be 
where  they  are  growing  in  Clashiegar  den.  When  sum- 
mer comes  people  praise  the  varied  flower-beds  of  the 
costly  city  parks,  but  they  have  not  seen  Tochty  woods 
in  their  glory.  Each  autumn  carries  me  to  the  harvest 
field,  till  in  my  study  I  hear  the  swish  of  the  scythe  and 
feel  the  fragrance  of  the  dry,  ripe  grain.  And  in  winter 
I  see  the  sun  shining  on  the  white  sides  of  Glen  Urtach, 
and  can  hardly  keep  pen  to  paper  in  this  dreary  room. 

"  What  nonsense  this  is,"  pulling  himself  together ; 
"  yes,  that  is  the  very  chair  you  sat  in,  and  this  is  the 
table  we  stuck  between  us  with  our  humble  flask  of 
Moselle  of  a  winter's  night  ...  let  7s  go  to  bed  ;  we  '11 
have  no  more  good  talk  to-night." 

When  he  had  left  me,  I  flung  open  my  window  in 
search  of  air,  for  it  seemed  as  if  the  city  were  choking 
me.  A  lamp  was  flaring  across  the  street,  two  cabs 
rattled  past  with  revellers  singing  a  music-hall  song,  a 
heavy  odour  from  many  drains  floated  in,  the  multitude 
of  houses  oppressed  one  as  with  a  weight.  How  sweet 
and  pure  it  was  now  at  the  pool  above  Tochty  mill, 
where  the  trout  were  lying  below  the  stones  and  the 
ash  boughs  dipping  into  the  water. 

Carmichael  once,  however,  lost  all  love  of  the  Glen, 
and  that  was  after  Kate  flung  herself  out  of  the  Free 
Kirk  and  went  on  a  visit  to  Muirtown  Castle,  He  was 


256  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

completely  disenchanted  and  saw  everything  at  its  poor- 
es£.  Why  did  they  build  the  manse  so  low  that  an 
able-bodied  man  could  touch  the  ceiling  of  the  lower 
rooms  with  an  effort  and  the  upper  rooms  easily?  What 
possessed  his  predecessor  to  put  such  an  impossible 
paper  on  the  study  and  to  stuff  the  room  with  book- 
shelves? A  row  of  Puritan  divines  offended  him  —  a 
wooden,  obsolete  theology  —  but  he  also  pitched  a 
defence  of  Queen  Mary  into  a  cupboard  —  she  had 
done  enough  mischief  already.  The  garden  looked 
squalid  and  mean,  without  flowers,  with  black  patches 
peeping  through  the  thin  covering  of  snow,  with  a  row 
of  winter  greens  opposite  the  southern  window.  He  had 
never  noticed  the  Glen  so  narrow  and  bare  before,  nor 
how  grey  and  unlovely  were  the  houses.  Why  had  not 
the  people  better  manners  and  some  brightness?  they 
were  not  always  attending  funerals  and  making  bargains. 
What  an  occupation  for  an  educated  man  to  spend  two 
hours  in  a  cabin  of  a  vestry  with  a  dozen  labouring  men, 
considering  how  two  pounds  could  be  added  to  the 
Sustentation  Fund,  or  preaching  on  Sunday  to  a  handful 
of  people  who  showed  no  more  animation  than  stone 
gods  except  when  the  men  took  snuff  audibly.  Car- 
michael  was  playing  the  spoiled  child  —  not  being  at  all  a 
mature  or  perfect  character,  then  or  now  —  and  was 
ready  to  hit  out  at  anybody.  His  bearing  was  for  the 
first  and  only  time  in  his  life  supercilious,  and  his  ser- 
mons were  a  vicious  attack  on  the  doctrines  most  dear 
to  the  best  of  his  people.  His  elders  knew  not  what 
had  come  over  him,  although  Elspeth  Macfadyen  was 
mysteriously  apologetic,  and  in  moments  of  sanity  he 
despised  himself.  One  day  he  came  to  a  good  resolu- 
tion suddenly,  and  went  down  to  see  Rabbi  Saunderson 


LOVE   SICKNESS. 


257 


TWO  TRAMPS  HELD  CONFERENCE 


—  the  very  thought  of  whose  gentle,  patient,  selfless  life 
was  a  rebuke  and  a  tonic. 

When  two  tramps  held  conference  on  the  road,  and 


258  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

one  indicated  to  the  other  visibly  that  any  gentleman  in 
temporary  distress  would  be  treated  after  a  Christian 
fashion  at  a  neighbouring  house,  Carmichael,  who  had 
been  walking  in  a  dream  since  he  passed  the  lodge, 
knew  instantly  that  he  must  be  near  the  Free  Kirk 
manse  of  Kilbogie.  The  means  of  communication 
between  the  members  of  the  nomadic  profession  is  almost 
perfect  in  its  frequency  and  accuracy,  and  Saunderson's 
manse  was  a  hedge-side  word.  Not  only  did  all  the 
regular  travellers  by  the  north  road  call  on  their  going 
up  in  spring  and  their  coming  down  in  autumn,  but 
habitues  of  the  east  coast  route  were  attracted  and  made 
a  circuit  to  embrace  so  hospitable  a  home,  and  even 
country  vagrants  made  their  way  from  Dunleith  and 
down  through  Glen  Urtach  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 
Rabbi.  They  had  particular  directions  to  avoid  Barbara 
—  expressed  forcibly  on  five  different  posts  in  the  vicinity 
and  enforced  in  picturesque  language,  of  an  evening  — 
and  they  were  therefore  careful  to  waylay  the  Rabbi  on 
the  road,  or  enter  his  study  boldly  from  the  front.  The 
humbler  members  of  the  profession  contented  themselves 
with  explaining  that  they  had  once  been  prosperous 
tradesmen,  and  were  now  walking  to  Muirtown  in  search 
of  work  —  receiving  their  alms,  in  silence,  with  diffidence 
and  shame  ;  but  those  in  a  higher  walk  came  to  consult 
the  Rabbi  on  Bible  difficulties,  which  were  threatening 
to  shake  their  faith,  and  departed  much  relieved  —  with 
a  ne\v  view  of  Lot's  wife,  as  well  as  a  suit  of  clothes  the 
Rabbi  had  only  worn  three  times. 

"You  have  done  kindly  by  me  in  calling"  —the 
vagabond  had  finished  his  story  and  was  standing,  a  very 
abject  figure,  among  the  books  —  "  and  in  giving  me  the 
message  from  your  friend.  I  am  truly  thankful  that  he 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  259 

is  now  labouring  —  in  iron,  did  you  say?  and  I  hope  he 
may  be  a  cunning  artificer. 

"  You  will  not  set  it  down  to  carelessness  that  I  can- 
not quite  recall  the  face  of  your  friend,  for,  indeed,  it  is 
my  privilege  to  see  many  travellers,  and  there  are  times 
when  I  may  have  been  a  minister  to  them  on  their 
journeys,  as  I  would  be  to  you  also  if  there  be  anything 
in  which  I  can  serve  you.  It  grieves  me  to  say  that  I 
have  no  clothing  that  I  might  offer  you ;  it  happens  that 
a  very  worthy  man  passed  here  a  few  days  ago  most  insuffi- 
ciently clad  and  .  .  .  but  I  should  not  have  alluded  to 
that;  my  other  garments,  save  what  I  wear,  are  .  .  . 
kept  in  a  place  of  ...  safety  by  my  excellent  house- 
keeper, and  she  makes  their  custody  a  point  of  con- 
science ;  you  might  put  the  matter  before  her.  .  .  . 
Assuredly  it  would  be  difficult,  and  I  crave  your  par- 
don for  putting  you  in  an  .  .  .  embarrassing  position ;  it 
is  my  misfortune  to  have  to-day  neither  silver  nor  gold," 
catching  sight  of  Carmichael  in  the  passage,  "  this  is  a 
Providence.  May  I  borrow  from  you,  John,  some  suit- 
able sum  for  our  brother  here  who  is  passing  through 
adversity?" 

"  Do  not  be  angry  with  me,  John  "  —  after  the  tramp 
had  departed,  with  five  shillings  in  hand  and  much 
triumph  over  Carmichael  on  his  face  — "  nor  speak 
bitterly  of  our  fellow  men.  Verily  theirs  is  a  hard  lot 
who  have  no  place  to  lay  their  head,  and  who  journey 
in  weariness  from  city  to  city.  John,  I  was  once  a 
stranger  and  a  wayfarer,  wandering  over  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  land.  Nor  had  I  a  friend  on  earth  till 
my  feet  were  led  to  the  Mains,  where  my  heart  was 
greatly  refreshed,  and  now  God  has  surrounded  me  with 
young  men  of  whose  kindness  I  am  not  worthy,  where- 


26o  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

fore  it  becometh  me  to  show  mercy  unto  others,"  and 
the  Rabbi  looked  at  Carmichael  with  such  sweetness,  that 
the  lad's  sullenness  began  to  yield,  although  he  made  no 
sign. 

"  Moreover,"  and  the  Rabbi's  voice  took  a  lower  tone, 
"as  often  as  I  look  on  one  of  those  men  of  the  high- 
ways, there  cometh  to  me  a  vision  of  Him  who  was  an 
outcast  of  the  people,  and  albeit  some  may  be  as  Judas, 
peradventure  one  might  beg  alms  of  me,  a  poor  sinful 
man,  some  day,  and  lo  it  might  be  ...  the  Lord  Him- 
self in  a  saint,"  and  the  Rabbi  bowed  his  head  and  stood 
awhile  much  moved. 

"  Rabbi,"  after  a  pause,  during  which  Carmichael's 
face  had  changed,  "  you  are  incorrigible.  For  years  we 
have  been  trying  to  make  you  a  really  good  and  wise 
man,  both  by  example  and  precept,  and  you  are  dis- 
tinctly worse  than  when  we  began  —  more  lazy,  miserly, 
and  uncharitable.  It  is  very  disheartening. 

"  Can  you  receive  another  tramp  and  give  him  a  bed, 
for  I  am  in  low  spirits,  and  so,  like  every  other  person  in 
trouble,  I  come  to  you,  you  dear  old  saint,  and  already  I 
feel  a  better  man." 

"Receive  you,  John?  It  is  doubtless  selfish,  but  it  is 
not  given  to  you  to  know  how  I  weary  to  see  your  faces, 
and  we  shall  have  much  converse  together  —  there  are 
some  points  I  would  like  your  opinion  on  —  but  first  of 
all,  after  a  slight  refreshment,  we  must  go  to  Mains : 
behold  the  aid  to  memory  I  have  designed  "  —  and  the 
Rabbi  pointed  to  a  large  square  of  paper  hung  above 
Chrysostom,  with  "  Farewell,  George  Pitillo,  3  o'clock." 
"  He  is  the  son's  son  of  my  benefactor,  and  he  leaves  his 
father's  house  this  day  to  go  into  a  strange  land  across 
the  sea :  I  had  a  service  last  night  at  Mains,  and 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  261 

expounded  the  departure  of  Abraham,  but  only  slightly, 
being  somewhat  affected  through  the  weakness  of  the 
flesh.  There  was  a  covenant  made  between  the  young 
man  and  myself,  that  I  should  meet  him  at  the  crossing 
of  the  roads  to-day,  and  it  is  in  my  mind  to  leave  a 
parable  with  him  against  the  power  of  this  present 
world." 

Then  the  Rabbi  fell  into  a  meditation  till  the  dog-cart 
came  up,  Mains  and  his  wife  in  the  front  and  George 
alone  in  the  back,  making  a  brave  show  of  indifference. 

"  George,"  said  the  Rabbi,  looking  across  the  field 
and  speaking  as  to  himself,  "  we  shall  not  meet  again 
in  this  world,  and  in  a  short  space  they  will  bury  me 
in  Kilbogie  kirkyard,  but  it  will  not  be  in  me  to  lie 
still  for  thinking  of  the  people  I  have  loved.  So  it 
will  come  to  pass  that  I  may  rise  —  you  have  ears  to 
understand,  George  —  and  I  will  inquire  of  him  that 
taketh  charge  of  the  dead  about  many  and  how  it  fares 
with  them." 

"And  George  Pitillo,  what  of  him,  Andrew?" 

"  '  Oh,  it  "s  a  peety  you  didna  live  langer,  Mr.  Saunder- 
son,  for  George  hes  risen  in  the  warld  and  made  a  great 
fortune.'  " 

"How  does  it  go  with  his  soul,  Andrew?" 

" '  Well,  you  see,  Mister  Saunderson,  George  hes  hed 
many  things  to  think  about,  and  he  maybe  hasna  hed 
time  for  releegion  yet,  but  nae  doot  he  '11  be  turnin'  his 
mind  that  wy  soon.'  " 

"  Poor  George,  that  I  baptised  and  admitted  to  the 
sacrament  and  .  .  .  loved  :  exchanged  his  soul  for  the 
world." 

The  sun  was  setting  fast,  and  the  landscape  —  bare 
stubble  fields,  leafless  trees,  still  water,  long,  empty  road 


262  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

—  was  of  a  blood-red  colour  fearsome  to  behold,  so  that 
no  one  spake,  and  the  horse  chafing  his  bit  made  the 
only  sound. 

Then  the  Rabbi  began  again. 

"And  George  Pitillo  —  tell  me,  Andrew? " 

" '  Weel,  ye  see,  Mister  Saunderson,  ye  wud  be  sorry 
for  him,  for  you  and  he  were  aye  chief;  he's  keepit  a 
gude  name  an'  workit  hard,  but  hesna  made  muckle  o' 
this  warld.'  " 

"And  his  soul,  Andrew?  " 

" '  Oo,  that 's  a'  richt ;  gin  we  a'  hed  as  gude  a  chance 
for  the  next  warld  as  George  Pitillo  we  micht  be 
satisfied.'  " 

"  That  is  enough  for  his  old  friend ;  hap  me  over 
again,  Andrew,  and  I'll  rest  in  peace  till  the  trumpet 
sound." 

Carmichael  turned  aside,  but  he  heard  something 
desperately  like  a  sob  from  the  back  of  the  dog-cart,  and 
the  Rabbi  saying,  "  God  be  with  you,  George,  and  as 
your  father's  father  received  me  in  the  day  of  my  sore 
discouragement,  so  may  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  open 
a  door  for  you  in  every  land  whithersoever  you  go,  and 
bring  you  in  at  last  through  the  gates  into  the  city." 
The  Rabbi  watched  George  till  the  dog-cart  faded  away 
into  the  dusk  of  the  winter's  day,  and  they  settled  for 
the  night  in  their  places  among  the  books  before  the 
Rabbi  spoke. 

It  was  with  a  wistful  tenderness  that  he  turned  to 
Carmichael  and  touched  him  slightly  with  his  hand,  as 
was  a  fashion  with  the  Rabbi. 

"  You  will  not  think  me  indifferent  to  your  welfare 
because  I  have  not  inquired  about  your  affairs,  for  in- 
deed this  could  not  be,  but  the  going  forth  of  this  lad 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  263 

has  tried  my  heart.  Is  there  aught,  John,  that  it  be- 
cometh  you  to  tell  me,  and  wherein  my  years  can  be  of 
any  avail  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  about  doctrine  I  wished  to  speak  to  you, 
Rabbi,  although  I  am  troubled  thus  also,  but  about  .  .  . 
you  remember  our  talk." 

"About  the  maid,  surely;  I  cannot  forget  her,  and 
indeed  often  think  of  her  since  the  day  you  brought  me 
to  her  house  and  made  me  known  unto  her,  which  was 
much  courtesy  to  one  who  is  fitter  for  a  book-room  than 
a  woman's  company. 

"She  is  fair  of  face  and  hath  a  pleasant  manner,  and 
surely  beauty  and  a  winsome  way  are  from  God ;  there 
seemed  also  a  certain  contempt  of  baseness  and  a  strength 
of  will  which  are  excellent.  Perhaps  my  judgment  is  not 
even  because  Miss  Carnegie  was  gracious  to  me,  and  you 
know,  John,  it  is  not  in  me  to  resist  kindness,  but  this 
is  how  she  seems  to  me.  Has  there  been  trouble  be- 
tween you?" 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  Rabbi ;  I  have  not 
spoken  one  word  of  love  to  ...  Miss  Carnegie,  nor 
she  to  me ;  but  I  love  her,  and  I  thought  that  perhaps 
she  saw  that  I  loved  her.  But  now  it  looks  as  if  .  .  . 
what  I  hoped  is  never  to  be,"  and  Carmichael  told  the 
Queen  Mary  affair. 

"  Is  it  not  marvellous,"  mused  the  Rabbi,  looking  into 
the  fire,  "  how  one  woman  who  was  indeed  at  the  time 
little  more  than  a  girl  did  carry  men,  many  of  them  wise 
and  clever,  away  as  with  a  flood,  and  still  divideth 
scholars  and  even  .  .  .  friends? 

"  It  was  not  fitting  that  Miss  Carnegie  should  have 
left  God's  house  in  heat  of  temper,  and  it  seemeth  to  us 
that  she  hath  a  wrong  reading  of  history,  but  it  is  surely 


264  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

good  that  she  hath  her  convictions,  and  holdeth  them  fast 
like  a  brave  maid. 

"  Is  it  not  so,  John,  that  friends  and  doubtless  also 
.  .  .  lovers  have  been  divided  by  conscience  and  have 
been  on  opposite  sides  in  the  great  conflict,  and  doth 
not  this  show  how  much  of  conscience  there  is  among 
men  ? 

"  It  may  be  this  dispute  will  not  divide  you  —  being 
now,  as  it  were,  more  an  argument  of  the  schools  than  a 
matter  of  principle,  but  if  it  should  appear  that  you  are 
far  apart  on  the  greater  matters  of  faith,  then  .  .  .  you 
will  have  a  heavy  cross  to  carry.  But  it  is  my  mind 
that  the  heart  of  the  maiden  is  right,  and  that  I  may 
some  day  see  her  ...  in  your  home,  whereat  my  eyes 
would  be  glad." 

The  Rabbi  was  so  taken  up  with  the  matter  that  he 
barely  showed  Carmichael  a  fine  copy  of  John  of 
Damascus  he  had  secured  from  London,  and  went  out 
of  his  course  at  worship  to  read,  as  well  as  to  expound 
with  much  feeling,  the  story  of  Ruth  the  Moabitess, 
showing  conclusively  that  she  had  in  her  a  high  spirit, 
and  that  she  was  designed  of  God  to  be  a  strength  to 
the  house  of  David.  He  was  also  very  cheerful  in  the 
morning,  and  bade  Carmichael  good-bye  at  Tochty 
woods  with  encouraging  words.  He  also  agreed  to 
assist  his  boy  at  the  Drumtochty  sacrament. 

It  was  evident  that  the  Rabbi's  mind  was  much  set 
on  this  visit,  but  Carmichael  did  not  for  one  moment 
depend  upon  his  remembering  the  day,  and  so  Burnbrae 
started  early  on  the  Saturday  with  his  dog- cart  to  bring 
Saunderson  up  and  deposit  him  without  fail  in  the  Free 
Kirk  manse  of  Drumtochty.  Six  times  that  day  did  the 
minister  leave  his  "action  "  sermon  and  take  his  way  to 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  265 

the  guest  room,  carrying  such  works  as  might  not  be 
quite  unsuitable  for  the  old  scholar's  perusal,  and  ar- 
ranging a  lamp  of  easy  management,  that  the  night  hours 
might  not  be  lost.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before 
the  Rabbi  was  delivered  at  the  manse,  and  Burnbrae 
gave  explanations  next  day  at  the  sacramental  dinner. 

"  It  wes  just  ten  when  a'  got  tae  the  manse  o'  Kil- 
bogie,  an'  his  hoosekeeper  didna  ken  whar  her  maister 
wes;  he  micht  be  in  Kildrummie  by  that  time,  she  said, 
or  half  wy  tae  Muirtovvn.  So  a'  set  oot  an'  ransackit  the 
parish  till  a'  got  him,  an'  gin  he  wesna  sittin'  in  a  bothie 
takin'  brose  wi'  the  plowmen  an'  expoundin'  Scripture 
a'  the  time.  . 

"  He  startit  on  the  ancient  martyis  afore  we  were 
half  a  mile  on  the  road,  and  he  gied  ae  testimony  aifter 
anither,  an'  he  wesna  within  sicht  o'  the  Reformation 
when  we  cam  tae  the  hooses  ;  a  '11  no  deny  that  a'  let 
the  mare  walk  bits  o'  the  road,  for  a'  cud  hae  heard  him 
a'  nicht ;  ma  bluid  's  warmer  yet,  treends." 

The  Rabbi  arrived  in  great  spirits,  and  refused  to 
taste  meat  till  he  had  stated  the  burden  of  his  sermon 
for  the  morrow. 

"  If  the  Lord  hath  opened  our  ears  the  servant  must 
declare  what  has  been  given  him,  but  I  prayed  that  the 
message  sent  through  me  to  your  flock,  John,  might  be 
love.  It  hath  pleased  the  Great  Shepherd  that  I  should 
lead  the  sheep  by  strange  paths,  but  I  desired  that 
it  be  otherwise  when  I  came  for  the  first  time  to  Drum- 
tochty. 

"  Two  days  did  I  spend  in  the  woods,  for  the  stillness 
of  winter  among  the  trees  leaveth  the  mind  disengaged 
for  the  Divine  word,  and  the  first  day  my  soul  was 
heavy  as  I  returned,  for  this  only  was  laid  upon  me, 


266  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

'vessels  of  wrath,  fitted  to  destruction.'  And,  John, 
albeit  God  would  doubtless  have  given  me  strength  ac- 
cording to  His  will,  yet  I  was  loath  to  bear  this  awful 
truth  to  the  people  of  your  charge. 

"  Next  day  the  sun  was  shining  pleasantly  in  the  wood 
and  it  came  to  me  that  clouds  had  gone  from  the  face 
of  God,  and  as  I  wandered  among  the  trees  a  squirrel 
sat  on  a  branch  within  reach  of  my  hand  and  did  not 
flee.  Then  I  heard  a  voice,  '  I  have  loved  thee  with  an 
everlasting  love,  therefore  with  loving  kindness  have  I 
drawn  thee.' 

"  It  was,  in  an  instant,  my  hope  that  this  might  be 
God's  word  by  me,  but  I  knew  not  it  was  so  till  the 
Evangel  opened  up  on  all  sides,  and  I  was  led  into  the 
outgoings  of  the  eternal  love  after  so  moving  a  fashion 
that  I  dared  to  think  that  grace  might  be  effectual  even 
with  me  .  .  .  with  me. 

"  God  opened  my  mouth  on  Sabbath  on  this  text  unto 
my  own  flock,  and  the  word  was  not  void.  It  is  little 
that  can  be  said  on  sovereign  love  in  two  hours  and  it  may 
be  a  few  minutes ;  yet  even  this  may  be  more  than  your 
people  are  minded  to  bear.  So  I  shall  pretermit  certain 
notes  on  doctrine;  for  you  will  doubtless  have  given 
much  instruction  on  the  purposes  of  God,  and  very 
likely  may  be  touching  on  that  mystery  in  your  action 
sermon." 

During  the  evening  the  Rabbi  was  very  genial  —  tast- 
ing Sarah's  viands  with  relish,  and  comparing  her  to 
Rebecca,  who  made  savoury  meat,  urging  Carmichael  to 
smoke  without  scruple,  and  allowing  himself  to  snuff 
three  times,  examining  the  bookshelves  with  keen  ap- 
preciation, and  finally  departing  with  three  volumes  of 
modern  divinity  under  his  arm,  to  reinforce  the  selection 


LOVE   SICKNESS.  267 

in  his  room,  "  lest  his  eyes  should  be  held  waking  in  the 
night  watches."  He  was  much  overcome  by  the  care 
that  had  been  taken  for  his  comfort,  and  at  the  door  of 
his  room  blest  his  boy:  "May  the  Lord  give  you  the 
sleep  of  His  beloved,  and  strengthen  you  to  declare  all 
His  truth  on  the  morrow."  Carmichael  sat  by  his  study 
fire  for  a  while  and  went  to  bed  much  cheered,  nor  did 
he  dream  that  there  was  to  be  a  second  catastrophe  in 
the  Free  Kirk  of  Drumtochty  which  would  be  far  sadder 
than  the  first,  and  leave  in  one  heart  life-long  regret. 


CHAPTER  XEX. 

THE    FEAR    OF    GOD. 

T  was  the  way  of  the  Free  Kirk 
that  the  assisting  minister  at 
the  Sacrament  should  sit  be- 
hind the  Communion  Table 
during  the  sermon,  and  the 
congregation,  without  giving 
the  faintest  sign  of  observation, 
could  estimate  its  effect  on  his 
face.  When  Doctor  Dowbig- 
composed  himself  to  listen  as 
became  a  Church  leader  of  substan- 
tial build  —  his  hands  folded  before 
him  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  far 
window  —  and  was  so  arrested  by 
the  opening  passage  of  Cunning- 
ham's sermon  on  Justification  by 
Faith  that  he  visibly  started,  and  afterward  sat  sideways 
with  his  ears  cocked,  Drumtochty,  while  doubtful 
whether  any  Muirtown  man  could  appreciate  the  subtlety 
of  their  minister,  had  a  higher  idea  of  the  Doctor ;  and 
when  the  Free  Kirk  minister  of  Kildrummie  —  a  stout 
man  and  given  to  agricultural  pursuits  —  went  fast  asleep 
under  a  masterly  discussion  of  the  priesthopd  of  Melchi- 
sedek,  Drumtochty's  opinion  of  the  intellectual  condition 
of  Kildrummie  was  confirmed  beyond  argument. 


THE   FEAR   OF   GOD.  269 

During  his  ministry  of  more  than  twenty  years  the 
Rabbi  had  never  preached  at  Drumtochty  —  being  fear- 
ful that  he  might  injure  the  minister  who  invited  him,  or 
might  be  so  restricted  in  time  as  to  lead  astray  by  ill- 
balanced  statements  —  and  as  the  keenest  curiosity 
would  never  have  induced  any  man  to  go  from  the  Glen 
to  worship  in  another  parish,  the  Free  Kirk  minister  of 
Kilbogie  was  still  unjudged  in  Drumtochty.  They  were 
not  sorry  to  have  the  opportunity  at  last,  for  they  had 
suffered  not  a  little  at  the  hands  of  Kilbogie  in  past  years, 
and  the  coming  event  disturbed  the  flow  of  business  at 
Muirtown  market. 

"  Ye  're  tae  hae  the  Doctor  at  laist,"  Mains  said  to 
Netherton  —  letting  the  luck-penny  on  a  transaction  in 
seed-corn  stand  over  —  "  an'  a  'm  jidgin'  the  time  's  no 
been  lost.  He  's  plainer  an'  easier  tae  follow  then  he 
wes  at  the  affgo.  Ma  word  "  —  contemplating  the  exer- 
cise before  the  Glen  —  "but  ye  '11  aye  get  eneuch  here 
and  there  tae  cairry  hame."  Which  shows  what  a  man 
the  Rabbi  was,  that  on  the  strength  of  his  possession  a 
parish  like  Kilbogie  could  speak  after  this  fashion  to 
Drumtochty. 

"  He  '11  hae  a  fair  trial,  Mains  "  —  Netherton's  tone 
was  distinctly  severe — "an'  mony  a  trial  he's  hed  in 
his  day,  they  say :  wes 't  three  an'  twenty  kirks  he 
preached  in,  afore  ye  took  him  ?  But  mind  ye,  length  's 
nae  standard  in  Drumtochty  ;  na,  na,  it 's  no  hoo  muckle 
wind  a  man  hes,  but  what  like  is  the  stuff  that  comes. 
It 's  bushels  doon  bye,  but  it 's  wecht  up  bye." 

Any  prejudice  against  the  Rabbi,  created  by  the  boast- 
ing of  a  foolish  parish  not  worthy  of  him,  was  reduced 
by  his  venerable  appearance  before  the  pulpit,  and  quite 
dispelled  by  his  unfeigned  delight  in  Carmichael's  con- 


270  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

duct  of  the  "  preliminaries."  Twice  he  nodded  approval 
to  the  reading  of  the  hundredth  Psalm,  and  although  he 
stood  with  covered  face  during  the  prayer,  he  emerged 
full  of  sympathy.  As  his  boy  read  the  fifty-third  of  Isaiah 
the  old  man  was  moved  well-nigh  to  tears,  and  on  the 
giving  out  of  the  text  from  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son,  the  Rabbi  closed  his  eyes  with  great  expectation,  as 
one  about  to  be  fed  with  the  finest  of  the  wheat. 

Carmichael  has  kept  the  sermon  unto  this  day,  and  as 
often  as  he  finds  himself  growing  hard  or  supercilious, 
reads  it  from  beginning  to  end.  It  is  his  hair  shirt,  to  be 
worn  from  time  to  time  next  his  soul  for  the  wrongness  in 
it  and  the  mischief  it  did.  He  cannot  understand  how  he 
could  have  said  such  things  on  a  Sacrament  morning  and 
in  the  presence  of  the  Rabbi,  but  indeed  they  were 
inevitable.  When  two  tides  meet  there  is  ever  a  cruel 
commotion,  and  ships  are  apt  to  be  dashed  on  the  rocks, 
and  CarmichaeFs  mind  was  in  a  "jabble"  that  day. 
The  newiculture,  with  its  wider  views  of  God  and  man, 
was  fighting  with  the  robust  Calvinism  in  which  every 
Scot  is  saturated,  and  the  result  was  neither  peace  nor 
charity.  Personally  the  lad  was  kindly  and  good- 
natured,  intellectually  he  had  become  arrogant,  intolerant, 
acrid,  flinging  out  at  old-fashioned  views,  giving  quite 
unnecessary  challenges,  arguing  with  imaginary  antagon- 
ists. It  has  ever  seemed  to  me,  although  I  suppose  that 
history  is  against  me,  that  if  it  be  laid  on  any  one  to 
advocate  a  new  view  that  will  startle  people,  he  ought 
of  all  men  to  be  conciliatory  and  persuasive  ;  but  Car- 
michael was,  at  least  in  this  time  of  fermentation,  very 
exasperating  and  pugnacious,  and  so  he  drove  the  Rabbi 
to  the  only  hard  action  of  his  life,  wherein  the  old  man 
suffered  most,  and  which  may  be  said  to  have  led  to  his 
death. 


THE    FEAR   OF   GOD.  271 

Carmichael,  like  the  Rabbi,  had  intended  to  preach 
that  morning  on  the  love  of  God,  and  thought  he  was  do- 
ing so  with  some  power.  What  he  did  was  to  take  the 
Fatherhood  of  God  and  use  it  as  a  stick  to  beat  Phari- 
sees with,  and  under  Pharisees  he  let  it  be  seen  that  he 
included  every  person  who  still  believed  in  the  inflexi- 
ble action  of  the  moral  laws  and  the  austere  majesty  of 
God.  Many  good  things  he  no  doubt  said,  but  each 
had  an  edge,  and  it  cut  deeply  into  people  of  the 
old  school.  Had  he  seen  the  Rabbi,  it  would  not 
have  been  possible  for  him  to  continue,  but  he  only 
was  conscious  of  Lachlan  Campbell,  with  whom  he  had 
then  a  feud,  and  who,  he  imagined,  had  come  to  criticise 
him.  So  he  went  on  his  rasping  way  that  Sacrament 
morning,  as  when  one  harrows  the  spring  earth  with 
iron  teeth,  exciting  himself  with  every  sentence  to  fresh 
crudities  of  thought  and  extravagances  of  opposition. 
But  it  only  flashed  on  him  that  he  had  spoken  foolishly 
when  he  came  down  from  the  pulpit,  and  found  the 
Rabbi  a  shrunken  figure  in  his  chair  before  the  Holy 
Table. 

Discerning  people,  like  Elspeth  Macfadyen,  saw  the 
whole  tragedy  from  beginning  to  end,  and  felt  the  pity 
of  it  keenly.  For  a  while  the  Rabbi  waited  with  fond 
confidence  —  for  was  not  he  to  hear  the  best-loved  of  his 
boys  —  and  he  caught  eagerly  at  a  gracious  expression, 
as  if  it  had  fallen  from  one  of  the  fathers.  Anything  in 
the  line  of  faith  would  have  pleased  the  Rabbi  that  day, 
who  was  as  a  little  child  and  full  of  charity,  in  spite  of 
his  fierce  doctrines.  By-and-by  the  light  died  away 
from  his  eyes  as  when  a  cloud  comes  over  the  face  of  the 
sun  and  the  Glen  grows  cold  and  dreary.  He  opened 
his  eyes  and  was  amazed  —  looking  at  the  people  and 


272  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

questioning  them  what  had  happened  to  their  minister. 
Suddenly  he  flushed  as  a  person  struck  by  a  friend,  and 
then,  as  one  blow  followed  another,  he  covered  his  face 
with  both  hands,  sinking  lower  and  lower  in  his  chair, 
till  even  that  decorous  people  were  almost  shaken  in 
their  attention. 

When  Carmichael  gave  him  the  cup  in  the  Sacrament 
the  Rabbi's  hand  shook  and  he  spilled  some  drops  of  the 
wine  upon  his  beard,  which  all  that  day  showed  like 
blood  on  the  silvery  whiteness.  Afterwards  he  spake  in 
his  turn  to  the  communicants,  and  distinguished  the  true 
people  of  God  from  the  multitude  —  to  whom  he  held 
out  no  hope  —  by  so  many  and  stringent  marks,  that 
Donald  Menzies  refused  the  Sacrament  with  a  lamentable 
groan.  And  when  the  Sacrament  was  over  and  the  time 
came  for  Carmichael  to  shake  hands  with  the  assisting 
minister  in  the  vestry,  the  Rabbi  had  vanished,  and  he 
had  no  speech  with  him  till  they  went  through  the  garden 
together  —  very  bleak  it  seemed  in  the  winter  dusk  — 
unto  the  sermon  that  closed  the  services  of  the  day. 

"  God's  hand  is  heavy  in  anger  on  us  both  this  day, 
John,"  and  Carmichael  was  arrested  by  the  awe  and 
sorrow  in  the  Rabbi's  voice,  "  else  .  .  .  you  had  not 
spoken  as  you  did  this  forenoon,  nor  would  necessity  be 
laid  on  me  to  speak  ...  as  I  must  this  night. 

"  His  ways  are  all  goodness  and  truth,  but  they  are 
oftentimes  encompassed  with  darkness,  and  the  burden 
He  has  laid  on  me  is  ...  almost  more  than  I  can  bear ; 
it  will  be  heavy  for  you  also. 

"  You  will  drink  the  wine  of  astonishment  this  night, 
and  it  will  be  strange  if  you  do  not  .  .  .  turn  from  the 
hand  that  pours  it  out,  but  you  will  not  refuse  the  truth 
or  ...  hate  the  preacher,"  and  at  the  vestry  door  the 
Rabbi  looked  wistfully  at  Carmichael. 


THE    FEAR   OF   GOD.  273 

During  the  interval  the  lad  had  been  ill  at  ease,  sus- 
pecting from  the  Rabbi's  manner  at  the  Table,  and  the 
solemnity  of  his  address,  that  he  disapproved  of  the 
action  sermon,  but  he  did  not  for  a  moment  imagine  that 
the  situation  was  serious.  It  is  one  of  the  disabilities  of 
good-natured  and  emotional  people,  without  much  deep- 
ness of  earth,  to  belittle  the  convictions  and  resolutions 
of  strong  natures,  and  to  suppose  that  they  can  be 
talked  away  by  a  few  pleasant,  coaxing  words. 

The  Rabbi  had  often  yielded  to  Carmichael  and  his 
other  boys  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life  —  in  meat  and 
drink  and  clothing,  even  unto  the  continuance  of  his 
snuffing.  He  had  been  most  manageable  and  pliable  — 
as  a  child  in  their  hands —  and  so  Carmichael  was  quite 
confident  that  he  could  make  matters  right  with  the  old 
man  about  a  question  of  doctrine  as  easily  as  about  the 
duty  of  a  midday  meal.  Certain  bright  and  superficial 
people  will  only  learn  by  some  solitary  experience  that 
faith  is  reserved  in  friendship,  and  that  the  most  heroic 
souls  are  those  which  count  all  things  loss  —  even  the 
smile  of  those  they  love  —  for  the  eternal.  For  a 
moment  Carmichael  was  shaken  as  if  a  new  Rabbi  were 
before  him ;  then  he  remembered  the  study  of  Kilbogie 
and  all  things  that  had  happened  therein,  and  his  spirits 
rose. 

"  How  dare  you  suggest  such  wickedness,  Rabbi,  that 
any  of  us  should  ever  criticise  or  complain  of  anything 
you  say?  Whatever  you  give  us  will  be  right,  and  do  us 
good,  and  in  the  evening  you  will  tell  me  all  I  said  wrong." 

Saunderson  looked  at  Carmichael  for  ten  seconds  as 
one  who  has  not  been  understood,  and  sighed.  Then  he 
went  down  the  kirk  after  the  beadle,  and  the  people 
marked  how  he  walked  like  a  man  who  was  afraid  he  might 

18 


274  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

fall,  and,  turning  a  corner,  he  supported  himself  on  the 
end  of  a  pew.  As  he  crept  up  the  pulpit  stairs  Elspeth 
gave  James  a  look,  and,  although  well  accustomed  to  the 
slowness  of  his  understanding,  was  amazed  that  he  did 
not  catch  the  point.  Even  a  man  might  have  seen  that 
this  was  not  the  same  minister  that  came  in  to  the  Sacra- 
ment with  hope  in  his  very  step. 

"  A  'm  no  here  tae  say  '  that  a'  kent  what  wes  comin' ' : 
—  Elspeth,  like  all  experts,  was  strictly  truthful — "for 
the  like  o'  that  wes  never  heard  in  Drumtochty,  and 
noo  that  Doctor  Saunderson  is  awa,  will  never  be  heard 
again  in  Scotland.  A1  jaloused  that  vials  wud  be  opened  an' 
a'  wesna  wrang,  but  ma  certes  "  —  and  that  remarkable 
woman  left  you  to  understand  that  no  words  in  human 
speech  could  even  hint  at  the  contents  of  the  vials. 

When  the  Rabbi  gave  out  his  text,  "Vessels  of  wrath," 
in  a  low,  awestruck  voice,  Carmichael  began  to  be  afraid, 
but  after  a  little  he  chid  himself  for  foolishness.  During 
half  an  hour  the  Rabbi  traced  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine 
Sovereignty  through  Holy  Scripture  with  a  characteristic 
wealth  of  allusion  to  Fathers  ancient  and  reforming,  and 
once  or  twice  he  paused  as  if  he  would  have  taken  up 
certain  matters  at  greater  length,  but  restrained  him- 
self, simply  asserting  the  Pauline  character  of  St.  Augus- 
tine's thinking,  and  exposing  the  looseness  of  Clement  of 
Alexandria  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  as  one  hurrying  on  to 
his  destination. 

"Dear  old  Rabbi  "  —  Carmichael  congratulated  him- 
self in  his  pew  —  "  what  need  he  have'  made  so  many 
apologies  for  his  subject?  He  is  going  to  enjoy  himself, 
and  he  is  sure  to  say  something  beautiful  before  he  is 
done."  But  he  was  distinctly  conscious  all  the  same  of 
a  wish  that  the  Rabbi  were  done  and  all  ...  well. 


THE    FEAR   OF    GOD.  275 

uncertainty  over.  For  there  was  a  note  of  anxiety, 
almost  of  horror,  in  the  Rabbi's  voice,  and  he  had  not  let 
the  Fathers  go  so  lightly  unless  under  severe  constraint. 
What  was  it?  Surely  he  would  not  attack  their  minister 
in  face  of  his  people.  .  .  .  The  Rabbi  do  that,  who  was 
in  all  his  ways  a  gentleman  ?  Yet  .  .  .  and  then  the  Rabbi 
abruptly  quitted  historical  exposition  and  announced  that 
he  would  speak  on  four  heads.  Carmichael,  from  his 
corner  behind  the  curtains,  saw  the  old  man  twice  open 
his  mouth  as  if  to  speak,  and  when  at  last  he  began 
he  was  quivering  visibly,  and  he  had  grasped  the 
outer  corners  of  the  desk  with  such  intensity  that  the 
tassels  which  hung  therefrom  —  one  of  the  minor  glories 
of  the  Free  Kirk  —  were  held  in  the  palm  of  his 
hand,  the  long  red  tags  escaping  from  between  his  white 
wasted  fingers.  A  pulpit  lamp  came  between  Carmichael 
and  the  Rabbi's  face,  but  he  could  see  the  straining 
hand,  which  did  not  relax  till  it  was  lifted  in  the  last 
awful  appeal,  and  the  white  and  red  had  a  gruesome 
fascination.  It  seemed  as  if  one  had  clutched  a  cluster 
of  full,  rich,  tender  grapes  and  was  pressing  them  in  an 
agony  till  their  life  ran  out  in  streams  of  blood,  and 
dripped  upon  the  heads  of  the  choir  sitting  beneath,  in 
their  fresh,  hopeful  youth.  And  it  also  came  to  Car- 
michael with  pathetic  conviction  even  then  that  every 
one  was  about  to  suffer,  but  the  Rabbi  more  than  them 
all  together.  While  the  preacher  was  strengthening  his 
heart  for  the  work  before  him,  Carmichael's  eye  was 
attracted  by  the  landscape  that  he  could  see  through  the 
opposite  window.  The  ground  sloped  upwards  from  the 
kirk  to  a  pine-wood  that  fringed  the  great  moor,  and  it 
was  covered  with  snow  on  which  the  moon  was  beginning 
to  shed  her  faint,  weird  light.  Within,  the  light  from  the 


276  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

upright  lamps  was  falling  on  the  ruddy,  contented  faces 
of  men  and  women  and  little  children,  but  without  it 
was  one  cold,  merciless  whiteness,  like  unto  the  justice  of 
God,  with  black  shadows  of  judgment. 

"  This  is  the  message  which  I  have  to  deliver  unto  you 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  even  as  Jonah  was  sent  to 
Nineveh  after  a  strange  discipline  with  a  word  of  mercy, 
so  am  I  constrained  against  my  will  to  carry  a  word  of 
searching  and  trembling. 

"First"  —  and  between  the  heads  the  Rabbi  paused 
as  one  whose  breath  had  failed  him  —  "  every  man 
belongs  absolutely  to  God  by  his  creation. 

"  Second.  The  purpose  of  God  about  each  man  pre- 
cedes his  creation. 

"Third.  Some  are  destined  to  Salvation,  and  some 
to  Damnation. 

"Fourth" — here  the  hard  breathing  became  a  sob 

—  "  each  man's  lot  is  unto  the  glory  of  God." 

It  was  not  only  skilled  theologians  like  Lachlan 
Campbell  and  Burnbrae,  but  even  mere  amateurs,  who 
understood  that  they  were  that  night  to  be  conducted 
to  the  farthest  limit  of  Calvinism,  and  that  whoever  fell 
behind  through  the  hardness  of  the  way,  their  guide 
would  not  flinch. 

As  the  Rabbi  gave  the  people  a  brief  space  wherein 
to  grasp  his  heads  in  their  significance,  Carmichael  re- 
membered a  vivid  incident  in  the  Presbytery  of  Muir- 
town,  when  an  English  evangelist  had  addressed  that 
reverend  and  austere  court  with  exhilarating  confidence 

—  explaining  the  extreme  simplicity  of  the  Christian  faith, 
and  showing  how  a  minister  ought  to  preach.     Various 
good  men  were  delighted,  and  asked  many  questions  of 
the   evangelist  —  who   had  kept  a  baby-linen  shop  for 


THE    FEAR  OF   GOD.  277 

twenty  years,  and  was  unspoiled  by  the  slightest  trace 
of  theology  —  but  the  Rabbi  arose  and  demolished  his 
"  teaching,"  convicting  him  of  heresy  at  every  turn,  till 
there  was  not  left  one  stone  upon  another. 

"  But  surely  fear  belongs  to  the  Old  Testament  dis- 
pensation," said  the  unabashed  little  man  to  the  Rabbi 
afterwards.  "  '  Rejoice,'  you  know,  my  friend,  '  and 
again  I  say  rejoice.'  " 

"  If  it  be  the  will  of  God  that  such  a  man  as  I  should 
ever  stand  on  the  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire,  then 
this  tongue  will  be  lifted  with  the  best,  but  so  long  as  my 
feet  are  still  in  the  fearful  pit  it  becometh  me  to  bow  rny 
head." 

"  Then  you  don't  believe  in  assurance  ?  "  but  already 
the  evangelist  was  quailing  before  the  Rabbi. 

"  Verily  there  is  no  man  that  hath  not  heard  of  that 
precious  gift,  and  none  who  does  not  covet  it  greatly,  but 
there  be  two  degrees  of  assurance"  —  here  the  Rabbi 
looked  sternly  at  the  happy,  rotund  little  figure  —  "  and 
it  is  with  the  first  you  must  begin,  and  what  you  need  to 
get  is  assurance  of  your  damnation." 

One  of  the  boys  read  an  account  of  this  incident  — 
thinly  veiled  —  in  a  reported  address  of  the  evangelist, 
in  which  the  Rabbi  —  being,  as  it  was  inferred,  beaten 
in  scriptural  argument  —  was  very  penitent  and  begged 
his  teacher's  pardon  with  streaming  tears.  What  really 
happened  was  different,  and  so  absolutely  conclusive  that 
Doctor  Dowbiggin  gave  it  as  his  opinion  "  that  a  valu- 
able lesson  had  been  read  to  unauthorised  teachers  of 
religion." 

Carmichael  recognised  the  same  note  in  the  sermon 
and  saw  another  man  than  he  knew,  as  the  Rabbi,  in  a 
low  voice,  without  heat  or  declamation,  with  frequent 


278  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

pauses  and  laboured  breathing,  as  of  one  toiling  up  a  hill, 
argued  the  absolute  supremacy  of  God  and  the  utter 
helplessness  of  man.  One  hand  ever  pressed  the  grapes, 
but  with  the  other  the  old  man  wiped  the  perspiration 
that  rolled  in  beads  down  his  face.  A  painful  stillness 
fell  on  the  people  as  they  felt  themselves  caught  in  the 
meshes  of  this  inexorable  net  and  dragged  ever  nearer 
to  the  abyss.  Carmichael,  who  had  been  leaning  forward 
in  his  place,  tore  himself  away  from  the  preacher  with 
an  effort,  and  moved  where  he  could  see  the  congrega- 
tion. Campbell  was  drinking  in  every  word  as  one  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  perfectly  satisfied.  Menzies  was 
huddled  into  a  heap  in  the  top  of  his  pew  as  one  justly 
blasted  by  the  anger  of  the  Eternal.  Men  were  white 
beneath  the  tan,  and  it  was  evident  that  some  of  the 
women  would  soon  fall  a-weeping.  Children  had  crept 
close  to  their  mothers  under  a  vague  sense  of  danger, 
and  a  girl  in  the  choir  watched  the  preacher  with  dilated 
eyeballs  like  an  animal  fascinated  by  terror. 

"  It  is  as  a  sword  piercing  the  heart  to  receive  this  truth, 
but  it  is  a  truth  and  must  be  believed.  There  are  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  in  the  past  who  were  born  and  lived 
and  died  and  were  damned  for  the  glory  of  God.  There 
are  hundreds  of  thousands  in  this  day  who  have  been 
born  and  are  living  and  shall  die  and  be  damned  for  the 
glory  of  God.  There  are  hundreds  of  thousands  in  the 
future  who  shall  be  born  and  shall  live  and  shall  die  and 
shall  be  damned  for  the  glory  of  God.  All  according  to 
the  will  of  God,  and  none  dare  say  nay  nor  change  the 
purpose  of  the  Eternal."  For  some  time  the  oil  in  the 
lamps  had  been  failing  —  since  the  Rabbi  had  been 
speaking  for  nigh  two  hou~s  —  and  as  he  came  to  an 
end  of  this  passage  the  light  began  to  nicker  and  die. 


THE    FEAR   OF   GOD.  279 

First  a  lamp  at  the  end  of  Burnbrae's  pew  went  out  and 
then  another  in  the  front.  The  preacher  made  as 
though  he  would  have  spoken,  but  was  silent,  and  the 
congregation  watched  four  lamps  sink  into  darkness  at 
intervals  of  half  a  minute.  There  only  remained  the 
two  pulpit  lan^ps,  and  in  their  light  the  people  saw  the 
Rabbi  lift  his  right  hand  for  the  first  time. 

"  Shall  ...  not  ...  the  .  .  .  Judge  ...  of  all  the 
earth  ...  do  ...  right?"  The  two  lamps  went  out 
together  and  a  great  sigh  rose  from  the  people.  At  the 
back  of  the  kirk  a  child  wailed  and  somewhere  in  the 
front  a  woman's  voice  —  it  was  never  proved  to  be 
Elspeth  Macfadyen  —  said  audibly,  "God  have  mercy 
upon  us."  The  Rabbi  had  sunk  back  into  the  seat  and 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  through  the  window 
over  his  head  the  moonlight  was  pouring  into  the 
church  like  unto  the  far-off  radiance  from  the  White 
Throne. 

When  Carmichael  led  the  Rabbi  into  the  manse  he 
could  feel  the  old  man  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  and 
he  would  touch  neither  meat  nor  drink,  nor  would  he 
speak  for  a  space. 

"Are  you  there,  John?" — and  he  put  out  his  hand 
to  Carmichael,  who  had  placed  him  in  the  big  study 
chair,  and  was  sitting  beside  him  in  silence. 

"  I  dare  not  withdraw  nor  change  any  word  that  1 
spake  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  this  day,  but  ...  it  is 
my  infirmity  ...  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born." 

"  It  was  awful,"  said  Carmichael,  and  the  Rabbi's  head 
again  fell  on  his  breast. 

"  John,"  —  and  Saunderson  looked  up,  —  "I  would 
give  ten  thousand  worlds  to  stand  in  the  shoes  of  that 
good  man  who  conveyed  me  from  Kilbogie  yesterday, 


WRESTLING    IN    DARKNESS    OF    SOUL 


THE    FEAR   OF   GOD.  281 

and  with  whom  I  had  very  pleasant  fellowship  con- 
cerning the  patience  of  the  saints. 

"  It  becometh  not  any  human  being  to  judge  his 
neighbour,  but  it  seemed  to  me  from  many  signs  that 
he  was  within  the  election  of  God,  and  even  as  we 
spoke  of  Polycarp  and  the  martyrs  who  have  overcome 
by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  it  came  unto  me  with  much 
power,  '  Lo,  here  is  one  beside  you  whose  name  is 
written  in  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life,  and  who  shall 
enter  through  the  gates  into  the  city ; '  and  grace  was 
given  me  to  rejoice  in  his  joy,  but  I  ...  "  —  and  Car- 
michael  could  have  wept  for  the  despair  in  the  Rabbi's 
voice. 

"  Dear  Rabbi !  "  —  for  once  the  confidence  of  youth 
was  smitten  at  the  sight  of  a  spiritual  conflict  beyond  its 
depth  —  "  you  are  surely  .  .  .  depreciating  yourself  .  .  . 
Burnbrae  is  a  good  man,  but  compared  with  you  ...  is 
not  this  like  to  the  depression  of  Elijah?"  Carmichael 
knew,  however,  he  was  not  fit  for  such  work,  and  had 
better  have  held  his  peace. 

"  It  may  be  that  I  understand  the  letter  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture better  than  some  of  God's  children,  although  I  be 
but  a  babe  even  in  this  poor  knowledge,  but  such  gifts 
are  only  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance.  He  will  have 
mercy  on  whom  He  will  have  mercy. 

"  John,"  said  the  Rabbi  suddenly,  and  with  strong 
feeling,  "  was  it  your  thought  this  night  as  I  declared  the 
sovereignty  of  God  that  I  judged  myself  of  the  elect, 
and  was  speaking  as  one  himself  hidden  for  ever  in  the 
secret  place  of  God  ?  " 

"I  ...  did  not  know,"  stammered  Carmichael,  whose 
utter  horror  at  the  unrelenting  sermon  had  only  been 
tempered  by  his  love  for  the  preacher. 


282  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"  You  did  me  wrong,  John,  for  then  had  I  not  dared 
to  speak  at  all  after  that  fashion ;  it  is  not  for  a  vessel 
of  mercy  filled  unto  overflowing  with  the  love  of  God 
to  exalt  himself  above  the  vessels  ...  for  whom  there 
is  no  mercy.  But  he  may  plead  with  them  who  are  in 
like  case  with  himself  to  ...  acknowledge  the  Divine 
Justice." 

Then  the  pathos  of  the  situation  overcame  Carmichael, 
and  he  went  over  to  the  bookcase  and  leant  his  head 
against  certain  volumes,  because  they  were  weighty  and 
would  not  yield.  Next  day  he  noticed  that  one  of  them 
was  a  Latin  Calvin  that  had  travelled  over  Europe  in 
learned  company,  and  the  other  a  battered  copy  of 
Jonathan  Edwards  that  had  come  from  the  house  of  an 
Ayrshire  farmer. 

"  Forgive  me  that  I  have  troubled  you  with  the  con- 
cerns of  my  soul,  John"  —  the  Rabbi  could  only  stand 
with  an  effort  —  "  they  ought  to  be  between  a  man  and 
his  God.  There  is  another  work  laid  to  my  hand  for 
which  there  is  no  power  in  me  now.  During  the  night  I 
shall  ask  whether  the  cup  may  not  pass  from  me,  but  if 
not,  the  will  of  God  be  done." 

Carmichael  slept  but  little,  and  every  time  he  woke 
che  thought  was  heavy  upon  him  that  on  the  other  side 
of  a  narrow  wall  the  holiest  man  he  knew  was  wrestling  in 
darkness  of  soul,  and  that  he  had  added  to  the  bitterness 
of  the  agony. 


CHAPTER   XX. 


THE    WOUNDS    OF   A    FRIEND. 

INTER  has  certain  morn- 
ings which  redeem  weeks 
of  misconduct,  when  the 
hoar   frost    during    the 
night  has  re-silvered 
every  branch  and  braced 
the    snow    upon    the 
ground,  and  the   sun 
rises  in  ruddy  strength  and  drives 
out  of  sight  every  cloud  and  mist, 
and  moves  all  day  through  an  ex- 
panse  of  unbroken  blue,  and  is 
reflected  from  the  dazzling  white- 
ness of  the  earth  as  from  a  mirror. 
Such  a   sight   calls   a   man  from 
sleep  with  authority,  and   makes 

his  blood  tingle,  and  puts  new  heart  in  him,  and  banishes 
the  troubles  of  the  night.  Other  mornings  winter  joins 
in  the  conspiracy  of  principalities  and  powers  to  daunt 
and  crush  the  human  soul.  No  sun  is  to  be  seen,  and 
the  grey  atmosphere  casts  down  the  heart,  the  wind 
moans  and  whistles  in  fitful  gusts,  the  black  clouds  hang 
low  in  threatening  masses,  now  and  again  a  flake  of  snow 
drifts  in  the  wind.  A  storm  is  near  at  hand,  not  the 


284  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

thunder-shower  of  summer,  with  warm  rain  and  the 
kindly  sun  in  ambush,  but  dark  and  blinding  snow, 
through  which  even  a  gamekeeper  cannot  see  six  yards, 
and  in  which  weary  travellers  lie  down  to  rest  and  die. 

The  melancholy  of  this  kind  of  day  had  fallen  on 
Saunderson,  whose  face  was  ashen,  and  who  held  Car- 
michaePs  hand  with  such  anxious  affection  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  inquire  how  he  had  slept,  and  it  would  have 
been  a  banalite  to  remark  upon  the  weather.  After  the 
Rabbi  had  been  compelled  to  swallow  a  cup  of  milk  by 
way  of  breakfast,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  ready  for 
speech. 

"What  is  it,  Rabbi?"  as  soon  as  they  were  again 
settled  in  the  study.  "  If  you  did  not  .  .  .  like  my  ser- 
mon, tell  me  at  once.  You  know  that  I  am  one  of  your 
boys,  and  you  ought  to  ...  help  me."  Perhaps  it  was 
inseparable  from  his  youth,  with  its  buoyancy  and  self- 
satisfaction,  and  his  training  in  a  college  whose  members 
only  knew  by  rumour  of  the  existence  of  other  places  of 
theological  learning,  that  Carmichael  had  at  that  moment 
a  pleasing  sense  of  humility  and  charity.  Had  it  been  a 
matter  of  scholastic  lore,  of  course  neither  he  nor  more 
than  six  men  in  Scotland  could  have  met  the  Rabbi  in 
the  gate.  With  regard  to  modern  thought,  Carmichael 
knew  that  the  good  Rabbi  had  not  read  Ecce  Homo,  and 
was  hardly,  well  ...  up  to  date.  He  would  not  for  the 
world  hint  such  a  thing  to  the  dear  old  man,  nor  even 
argue  with  him ;  but  it  was  flattering  to  remember  that 
the  attack  could  be  merely  one  of  blunderbusses,  in 
which  the  modern  thinker  would  at  last  intervene  and 
save  the  ancient  scholar  from  humiliation. 

"Well,  Rabbi?"  and  Carmichael  tried  to  make  it 
easy. 


THE    WOUNDS   OF   A    FRIEND.  285 

"  Before  I  say  what  is  on  my  heart,  John,  you  will 
grant  an  old  man  who  loves  you  one  favour.  So  far  as 
in  you  lies  you  will  bear  with  me  if  that  which  I  have  to 
say,  and  still  more  that  which  my  conscience  will  com- 
pel me  to  do,  is  hard  to  flesh  and  blood." 

"  Did  n't  we  settle  that  last  night  in  the  vestry?  "  and 
Carmichael  was  impatient ;  "  is  it  that  you  do  not  agree 
with  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Fatherhood?  We 
younger  men  are  resolved  to  base  Christian  doctrine  on 
the  actual  Scriptures,  and  to  ignore  mere  tradition." 

"An  excellent  rule,  my  dear  friend,"  cried  the  Rabbi, 
wonderfully  quickened  by  the  challenge,  "  and  with  your 
permission  and  for  our  mutual  edification  we  shall  briefly 
review  all  passages  bearing  on  the  subject  in  hand  — 
using  the  original,  as  will  doubtless  be  your  wish,  and  you 
correcting  my  poor  recollection." 

About  an  hour  afterwards,  and  when  the  Rabbi  was 
only  entering  into  the  heart  of  the  matter,  Carmichael 
made  the  bitter  discovery  —  without  the  Rabbi  having 
even  hinted  at  such  a  thing  —  that  his  pet  sermon  was  a 
mass  of  boyish  crudities,  and  this  reverse  of  circumstances 
was  some  excuse  for  his  pettishness. 

"  It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  it  is  worth  our  time  to 
haggle  about  the  usage  of  Greek  words  or  to  count  texts  : 
I  ground  my  position  on  the  general  meaning  of  the 
Gospels  and  the  sense  of  things,"  and  Carmichael  stood 
on  the  hearthrug  in  a  very  superior  attitude. 

"  Let  that  pass  then,  John,  and  forgive  me  if  I  appeared 
to  battle  about  words,  as  certain  scholars  of  the  olden 
time  were  fain  to  do,  for  in  truth  it  is  rather  about  the 
hard  duty  before  me  than  any  imperfection  in  your  teach- 
ing I  would  speak,"  and  the  Rabbi  glanced  nervously  at 
the  young  minister. 


286  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  We  are  both  Presbyters  of  Christ's  Church,  ordained 
after  the  order  of  primitive  times,  and  there  are  laid  on 
us  certain  heavy  charges  and  responsibilities  from  which 
we  may  not  shrink,  as  we  shall  answer  to  the  Lord  at  the 
great  day." 

Carmichael's  humiliation  was  lost  in  perplexity,  and  he 
sat  down,  wondering  what  the  Rabbi  intended. 

"  If  any  Presbyter  should  see  his  brother  fall  into  one 
of  those  faults  of  private  life  that  do  beset  us  all  in  our 
present  weakness,  then  he  doth  well  and  kindly  to  point 
it  out  unto  his  brother ;  and  if  his  brother  should  depart 
from  the  faith  as  they  talk  together  by  the  way,  then  it  is 
a  Presbyter's  part  to  convince  him  of  his  error  and  restore 
him." 

The  Rabbi  cast  an  imploring  glance,  but  Carmichael 
had  still  no  understanding. 

"  But  if  one  Presbyter  should  teach  heresy  to  his 
flock  in  the  hearing  of  another  .  .  .  even  though  it 
break  the  other's  heart,  is  not  the  path  of  duty  fenced  up 
on  either  side,  verily  a  straight,  narrow  way,  and  hard  for 
the  feet  to  tread?" 

"You  have  spoken  to  me,  Rabbi,  and  .  .  .  cleared 
yourself"  —  Carmichael  was  still  somewhat  sore  —  "  and 
I  "11  promise  not  to  offend  you  again  in  an  action 
sermon." 

"  Albeit  you  intend  it  not  so,  yet  are  you  making  it 
harder  for  me  to  speak.  .  .  .  See  you  not  .  .  .  that  I 
.  .  .  that  necessity  is  laid  on  me  to  declare  this  matter 
to  my  brother  Presbyters  in  court  assembled  .  .  .  but 
not  in  hearing  of  the  people  ?  "  Then  there  was  a  still- 
ness in  the  room,  and  the  Rabbi,  although  he  had  closed 
his  eyes,  was  conscious  of  the  amazement  on  the  young 
man's  face. 


THE    WOUNDS   OF   A   FRIEND.  287 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  speaking  very  slowly,  as  one 
taken  utterly  aback,  "  that  our  Rabbi  would  come  to  my 
...  to  the  Sacrament  and  hear  me  preach,  and  .  .  . 
report  me  for  heresy  to  the  Presbytery?  Rabbi,  I  know 
we  don't  agree  about  some  things,  and  perhaps  I  was  a 
little  .  .  .  annoyed  a  few  minutes  ago  because  you  .  .  . 
know  far  more  than  I  do,  but  that  is  nothing.  For  you 
to  prosecute  one  of  your  boys  and  be  the  witness  your- 
self. .  .  .  Rabbi,  you  can't  mean  it.  ...  Say  it 's  a 
mistake." 

The  old  man  only  gave  a  deep  sigh. 

"  If  it  were  Dowbiggin  or  ...  any  man  except  you,  I 
would  n't  care  one  straw,  rather  enjoy  the  debate,  but 
you  whom  we  have  loved  and  looked  up  to  and  boasted 
about,  why,  it 's  like  ...  a  father  turning  against  his 
sons." 

The  Rabbi  made  no  sign. 

"  You  live  too  much  alone,  Rabbi,"  and  Carmichael 
began  again  as  the  sense  of  the  tragedy  grew  on  him, 
"  and  nurse  your  conscience  till  it  gets  over  tender ;  no 
other  man  would  dream  of  ...  prosecuting  a  ...  fellow 
minister  in  such  circumstances.  You  have  spoken  to  me 
like  a  father,  surely  that  is  enough,"  and  in  his  honest 
heat  the  young  fellow  knelt  down  by  the  Rabbi's  chair 
and  took  his  hand. 

A  tear  rolled  down  the  Rabbi's  cheek,  and  he  looked 
fondly  at  the  lad. 

"  Your  words  pierce  me  as  sharp  swords,  John ;  spare 
me,  for  I  can  do  none  otherwise ;  all  night  I  wrestled 
for  release,  but  in  vain." 

Carmichael  had  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  such  as 
befalls  emotional  and  ill-disciplined  natures  when  they  are 
disappointed  and  mortified. 


288  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"Very  good,  Doctor  Saunderson  "  —  Carmichael  rose 
awkwardly  and  stood  on  the  hearthrug  again,  an  elbow 
on  the  mantelpiece  —  "  you  must  do  as  you  please  and 
as  you  think  right.  I  am  sorry  that  I  ...  pressed 
you  so  far,  but  it  was  on  grounds  of  our  .  .  .  friend- 
ship. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me  as  soon  as  you  can  what  you 
propose  to  do,  and  when  you  will  bring  .  .  .  this  matter 
before  the  Presbytery.  My  sermon  was  fully  written  and 
...  is  at  your  disposal." 

While  this  cold  rain  beat  on  the  Rabbi's  head  he 
moved  not,  but  at  its  close  he  looked  at  Carmichael  with 
the  appeal  of  a  dumb  animal  in  his  eyes. 

"  The  first  meeting  of  Presbytery  is  on  Monday, 
but  you  would  no  doubt  consider  that  too  soon ;  is  there 
anything  about  dates  in  the  order  of  procedure  for 
heresy?"  and  Carmichael  made  as  though  he  would  go 
over  to  the  shelves  for  a  law  book. 

"John,"  cried  the  Rabbi  —  his  voice  full  of  tears  — 
rising  and  following  the  foolish  lad,  "  is  this  all  you  have 
in  your  heart  to  say  unto  me  ?  Surely,  as  I  stand  before 
you,  it  is  not  my  desire  to  do  such  a  thing,  for  I  would 
rather  cut  off  my  right  hand. 

"  God  hath  not  been  pleased  to  give  me  many  friends, 
and  He  only  knows  how  you  and  the  others  have  com- 
forted my  heart.  I  lie  not,  John,  but  speak  the  truth, 
that  there  is  nothing  unto  life  itself  I  would  not  give  for 
your  good,  who  have  been  as  the  apple  of  my  eye  unto 
me." 

Carmichael  hardened  himself,  torn  between  a  savage 
sense  of  satisfaction  that  the  Rabbi  was  suffering  for  his 
foolishness  and  the  inclination  of  his  better  self  to  re- 
spond to  the  old  man's  love. 


THE    WOUNDS   OF   A    FRIEND.  289 

"  If  there  be  a  breach  between  us,  it  will  not  be  for 
you  as  it  must  be  for  me.  You  have  many  friends,  and 
may  God  add  unto  them  good  men  and  faithful,  but  I 
shall  lose  my  one  earthly  joy  and  consolation,  when  your 
feet  are  no  longer  heard  on  my  threshold  and  your  face 
no  longer  brings  light  to  my  room.  And,  John,  even 
this  thing  which  I  am  constrained  to  do  is  yet  of  love, 
as  ...  you  shall  confess  one  day." 

Carmichael's  pride  alone  resisted,  and  it  was  melting 
fast.  Had  he  even  looked  at  the  dear  face,  he  must 
have  given  way,  but  he  kept  his  shoulder  to  the  Rabbi, 
and  at  that  moment  the  sound  of  wheels  passing  the 
corner  of  the  manse  gave  him  an  ungracious  way  of 
escape. 

"  That  is  Burnbrae's  dog-cart  .  .  .  Doctor  Saunderson, 
and  I  think  he  will  not  wish  to  keep  his  horse  standing 
in  the  snow,  so  unless  you  will  stay  all  night,  as  it's 
going  to  drift.  .  .  .  Then  perhaps  it  would  be  better. 
.  .  .  Can  I  assist  you  in  packing?"  How  formal  it 
all  sounded,  and  he  allowed  the  Rabbi  to  go  upstairs 
alone,  with  the  result  that  various  things  of  the  old  man's 
are  in  Carmichael's  house  unto  this  day. 

Another  chance  was  given  the  lad  when  the  Rabbi 
would  have  bidden  him  good-bye  at  the  door,  beseech- 
ing that  he  should  not  come  out  into  the  drift,  and 
still  another  when  Burnbrae,  being  concerned  about 
his  passenger's  appearance,  who  seemed  ill-fitted  to  face 
a  storm,  wrapt  him  in  a  plaid ;  and  he  had  one  more 
when  the  old  man  leant  out  of  the  dog-cart  and  took 
Carmichael's  hand  in  both  of  his,  but  only  said,  "  God 
bless  you  for  all  you  've  been  to  me,  and  forgive  me  for 
all  wherein  I  have  failed  you."  And  they  did  not  meet 
again  till  that  never-to-be-forgotten  sederunt  of  the  Free 


290  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

Kirk  Presbytery  of  Muirtovvn,  when  the  minister  of  Kil- 
bogie  accused  the  minister  of  Drumtochty  of  teaching 
the  Linlathen  heresy  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  in  a  ser- 
mon before  the  Sacrament. 

Among  all  the  institutions  of  the  North  a  Presbytery 
is  the  most  characteristic,  and  affords  a  standing  illustra- 
tion of  the  contradictions  of  a  superbly  logical  people. 
It  is  so  anti-clerical  a  court  that  for  every  clergyman 
there  must  be  a  layman  —  country  ministers  promising 
to  bring  in  their  elder  for  great  occasions,  and  in- 
structing him  audibly  how  to  vote  —  and  so  fiercely 
clerical  that  if  the  most  pious  and  intelligent  elder  dared 
to  administer  a  sacrament  he  would  be  at  once  tried  and 
censured  for  sacrilege.  So  careful  is  a  Pi^sbytery  to 
prevent  the  beginnings  of  Papacy  that  it  insists  upon 
each  of  its  members  occupying  the  chair  in  turn,  and 
dismisses  him  again  into  private  life  as  soon  as  he  has 
mastered  his  duties,  but  so  imbued  is  it  with  the  idea  of 
authority  that  whatever  decision  may  be  given  by  some 
lad  of  twenty-five  in  the  chair  —  duly  instructed,  how- 
ever, by  the  clerk  below  —  will  be  rigidly  obeyed.  When 
a  Presbytery  has  nothing  else  to  do,  it  dearly  loves  to 
pass  a  general  condemnation  on  sacerdotalism,  in  which 
the  tyranny  of  prelates,  and  the  foolishness  of  vestments 
will  be  fully  exposed,  but  a  Presbytery  wields  a  power  at 
which  a  bishop's  hair  would  stand  on  end,  and  Doctor 
Dowbiggin  once  made  Carmichael  leave  the  Communion 
Table  and  go  into  the  vestry  to  put  on  his  bands. 

When  a  Presbytery  is  in  its  lighter  moods,  it  gives 
itself  to  points  of  order  with  a  skill  and  relish  beyond  the 
Southern  imagination.  It  did  not  matter  how  harmless, 
even  infantile,  might  be  the  proposal  placed  before  the 
court  by  such  a  man  as  MacWheep  of  Pitscovvrie,  he  has 


THE    WOUNDS   OF   A    FRIEND.  291 

hardly  got  past  an  apology  for  his  presumption  in  ventur- 
ing to  speak  at  all,  before  a  member  of  Presbytery  —  who 
had  reduced  his  congregation  to  an  irreducible  minimum 
by  the  woodenness  of  his  preaching  —  inquires  whether 
the  speech  of  "  our  esteemed  brother  is  not  ultra  vires  " 
or  something  else  as  awful.  MacWheep  at  once  sits 
down  with  the  air  of  one  taken  red-handed  in  arson,  and 
the  court  debates  the  point  till  every  authority  has  taken 
his  fill,  when  the  clerk  submits  to  the  Moderator,  with  a 
fine  blend  of  deference  and  infallibility,  that  Mr.  Mac- 
Wheep is  perfectly  within  his  rights ;  and  then,  as  that 
estimable  person  has,  by  this  time,  lost  any  thread  he 
ever  possessed,  the  Presbytery  passes  to  the  next  busi- 
ness —  with  the  high  pirit  of  men  returning  from  -a 
holiday.  Carmichael  u  ^d,  indeed,  to  relate  how  in  a 
great  stress  of  business  omeone  moved  that  the  Pres- 
bytery should  adjourn  for  dinner,  and  the  court  argued 
for  seventy  minutes,  with  many  precedents,  whether  such 
a  motion  —  touching  as  it  did  the  standing  orders  — 
could  even  be  discussed,  and  with  an  unnecessary  pro- 
digality of  testimony  he  used  to  give  perorations  which 
improved  with  every  telling. 

The  love  of  law  diffused  through  the  Presbytery  be- 
came incarnate  in  the  clerk,  who  was  one  of  the  most 
finished  specimens  of  his  class  in  the  Scottish  Kirk.  His 
sedate  appearance,  bald,  polished  head,  fringed  with  pure 
white  hair,  shrewd  face,  with  neatly  cut  side  whiskers,  his 
suggestion  of  ur  -rring  accuracy  and  inexhaustible  mem- 
ory, his  attituc^  ,  for  exposition,  —  holding  his  glasses  in 
his  left  hand  and  enforcing  his  decision  with  the  little  fin- 
ger of  the  r'ght  hand  —  carried  conviction  even  to  the  most 
disorderly.  Ecclesiastical  radicals,  boiling  over  with  new 
schemes,  and  boasting  to  admiring  circles  of  MacWheeps 


292 


KATE   CARNEGIE. 


that  they  would  not  be  brow-beaten  by  red  tape  officials 
became  ungrammatical  before  that  firm  gaze,  and  ended 


HIS    ATTITUDE    FOR    EXPOSITIO 


in  abject  surrender.  Self-contained  and  self-sufficing,  the 
clerk  took  no  part  in  debate,  save  at  critical  moments  to 
lay  down  the  law,  but  wrote  his  minutes  unmoved  through 


THE   WOUNDS   OF   A   FRIEND.          293 

torrents  of  speech  on  every  subject,  from  the  Sustenta- 
tion  Fund  to  the  Union  between  England  and  Scotland, 
and  even  under  the  picturesque  eloquence  of  foreign 
deputies,  whose  names  he  invariably  requested  should  be 
handed  to  him,  written  legibly  on  a  sheet  of  paper.  On 
two  occasions  only  he  ceased  from  writing  :  when  Dr. 
Dowbiggin  discussed  a  method  of  procedure  —  then  he 
watched  him  over  his  spectacles  in  hope  of  a  nice  point ; 
or  when  some  enthusiastic  brother  would  urge  the  Pres- 
bytery to  issue  an  injunction  on  the  sin  of  Sabbath  walk- 
ing —  then  the  clerk  would  abandon  his  pen  in  visible 
despair,  and  sitting  sideways  on  his  chair  and  supporting 
his  head  by  that  same  little  ringer,  would  face  the  Pres- 
bytery with  an  expression  of  reverent  curiosity  on  his 
face  why  the  Almighty  was  pleased  to  create  such  a  man. 
His  preaching  was  distinguished  for  orderliness,  and  was 
much  sought  after  for  Fast  days.  It  turned  largely  on 
the  use  of  prepositions  and  the  scope  of  conjunctions, 
so  that  the  clerk  could  prove  the  doctrine  of  Vicarious 
Sacrifice  from  "for,"  and  Retribution  from  "as"  in  the 
Lord's  prayer,  emphasising  and  confirming  everything 
by  that  wonderful  finger,  which  seemed  to  be  designed 
by  Providence  for  delicate  distinctions,  just  as  another 
man's  fist  served  for  popular  declamation.  His  pulpit 
masterpiece  was  a  lecture  on  the  Council  of  Jerusalem, 
in  which  its  whole  deliberations  were  reviewed  by  the 
rules  of  the  Free  Kirk  Book  of  Procedure,  and  a  search- 
ing and  edifying  discourse  concluded  with  two  lessons. 
First :  That  no  ecclesiastical  body  can  conduct  its  pro- 
ceedings without  officials.  Second :  That  such  men 
ought  to  be  accepted  as  a  special  gift  of  Providence. 

The  general  opinion  among  good  people  was  that  the 
cleik's  preaching  was  rather  for  upbuilding  than  arous- 


294  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

ing,  but  it  is  still  remembered  by  the  survivors  of  the  old 
Presbytery  that  when  MacWheep  organised  a  conference 
on  "The  state  of  religion  in  our  congregations,"  and  it 
was  meandering  in  strange  directions,  the  clerk,  who 
utilised  such  seasons  for  the  writing  of  letters,  rose  amid 
a  keen  revival  of  interest  —  it  was  supposed  that  he  had 
detected  an  irregularity  in  the  proceedings  —  and  offered 
his  contribution.  "  It  did  not  become  him  to  boast," 
he  said,  "  but  he  had  seen  marvellous  things  in  his  day  : 
under  his  unworthy  ministry  three  beadles  had  been  con- 
verted to  Christianity,"  and  this  experience  was  so  final 
that  the  conference  immediately  closed. 

Times  there  were,  however,  when  the  Presbytery  rose 
to  its  height,  and  was  invested  with  an  undeniable  spirit- 
ual dignity.  Its  members,  taken  one  by  one,  consisted 
of  farmers,  shepherds,  tradesmen,  and  one  or  two  profes- 
sional men,  with  some  twenty  ministers,  only  two  or 
three  of  whom  were  known  beyond  their  parishes.  Yet 
those  men  had  no  doubt  that  as  soon  as  they  were  con- 
stituted in  the  name  of  Christ,  they  held  their  authority 
from  the  Son  of  God  and  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  they 
bore  themselves  in  spiritual  matters  as  His  servants.  No 
kindly  feeling  of  neighbourliness  or  any  fear  of  man  could 
hinder  them  from  inquiring  into  the  religious  condition 
of  a  parish  or  dealing  faithfully  with  an  erring  minister. 
They  had  power  to  ordain,  and  laid  hands  on  the  bent 
head  of  some  young  probationer  with  much  solemnity ; 
they  had  also  power  to  take  away  the  orders  they  had 
given,  and  he  had  been  hardened  indeed  beyond  hope 
who  could  be  present  and  not  tremble  when  the  Moder- 
ator, standing  in  his  place,  with  the  Presbytery  around, 
and  speaking  in  the  name  of  the  Head  of  the  Church, 
deposed  an  unworthy  brother  from  the  holy  ministry. 


THE   WOUNDS   OF   A    FRIEND.  295 

MacWheep  was  a  "  cratur,"  and  much  given  to  twaddle, 
but  when  it  was  his  duty  once  to  rebuke  a  fellow-minister 
for  quarrelling  with  his  people,  he  was  delivered  from 
himself,  and  spake  with  such  grave  wisdom  as  he  has 
never  shown  before  or  since. 

When  the  Presbytery  assembled  to  receive  a  statement 
from  Doctor  Saunderson  "  re  error  in  doctrine  by  a 
brother  Presbyter,"  even  a  stranger  might  have  noticed 
that  its  members  were  weighted  with  a  sense  of  respon- 
sibility, and  although  a  discussion  arose  on  the  attempt 
of  a  desultory  member  to  introduce  a  deputy  charged 
with  the  subject  of  the  lost  ten  tribes,  yet  it  was  promptly 
squelched  by  the  clerk,  who  intimated,  with  much  grav- 
ity, that  the  court  had  met  in  hunt  effectum,  viz.  to 
hear  Doctor  Saunderson,  and  that  the  court  could  not, 
in  consistence  with  law,  take  up  any  other  business,  not 
even  —  here  Carmichael  professed  to  detect  a  flicker 
of  the  clerkly  eyelids  —  the  disappearance  of  the  ten 
tribes. 

It  was  the  last  time  that  the  Rabbi  ever  spoke  in  pub- 
lic, and  it  is  now  agreed  that  the  deliverance  was  a  fit 
memorial  of  the  most  learned  scholar  that  has  been  ever 
known  in  those  parts.  He  began  by  showing  that 
Christian  doctrine  has  taken  various  shapes,  some  more 
and  some  less  in  accordance  with  the  deposit  of  truth 
given  by  Christ  and  the  holy  Apostles,  and  especially 
that  the  doctrine  of  Grace  had  been  differently  con- 
ceived by  two  eminent  theologians,  Calvin  and  Arminius, 
and  his  exposition  was  so  lucid  that  the  clerk  gave  it  as 
his  opinion  afterwards,  that  the  two  systems  were  under- 
stood by  certain  members  of  the  court  for  the  first  time 
that  day.  Afterwards  the  Rabbi  vindicated  and  glorified 
Calvinism  from  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New 


296  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Testament,  from  the  Fathers,  from  the  Reformation 
Divines,  from  the  later  creeds,  till  the  brain  of  the  Pres- 
bytery reeled  through  the  wealth  of  allusion  and  quota- 
tion, all  in  the  tongues  of  the  learned.  Then  he  dealt 
with  the  theology  of  Mr.  Erskine  of  Linlathen,  and 
showed  how  it  was  undermining  the  very  foundations  of 
Calvinism  ;  yet  the  Rabbi  spake  so  tenderly  of  our 
Scottish  Maurice  that  the  Presbytery  knew  not  whether 
it  ought  to  condemn  Erskine  as  a  heretic  or  love  him  as 
a  saint.  Having  thus  brought  the  court  face  to  face 
with  the  issues  involved,  the  Rabbi  gave  a  sketch  of  a 
certain  sermon  he  had  heard  while  assisting  "  a  learned 
and  much-beloved  brother  at  the  Sacrament,"  and 
Carmichael  was  amazed  at  the  transfiguration  of  this 
very  youthful  performance,  which  now  figured  as  a  pro- 
found and  edifying  discourse,  for  whose  excellent  qual- 
ities the  speaker  had  not  adequate  words.  This  fine 
discourse  was,  however,  to  a  certain  degree  marred,  the 
Rabbi  suggested,  by  an  unfortunate,  although  no  doubt 
temporary,  leaning  to  the  teaching  of  Mr.  Erskine, 
whose  beautiful  piety,  which  was  even  to  himself  in  his 
vvorldliness  and  unprofitableness  a  salutary  rebuke,  had 
exercised  its  just  fascination  upon  his  much  more  spirit- 
ual brother.  Finally  the  Rabbi  left  the  matter  in  the 
hands  of  the  Presbytery,  declaring  that  he  had  cleared 
his  conscience,  and  that  the  minister  was  one  —  here  he 
was  painfully  overcome  —  dear  to  him  as  a  son,  and  to 
whose  many  labours  and  singular  graces  he  could  bear 
full  testimony,  the  Rev.  John  Carmichael,  of  Drumtochty. 
The  Presbytery  was  slow  and  pedantic,  but  was  not 
insensible  to  a  spiritual  situation,  and  there  was  a  mur- 
mur of  sympathy  when  the  Rabbi  sat  down  —  much 
exhausted,  and  never  having  allowed  himself  to  look 
once  at  Carmichael. 


THE   WOUNDS   OF   A   FRIEND.  297 

Then  arose  a  self-made  man,  who  considered  ortho- 
doxy and  capital  to  be  bound  up  together,  and  espe- 
cially identified  any  departure  from  sovereignty  with  that 
pestilent  form  of  Socialism  which  demanded  equal  chances 
for  every  man.  He  was  only  a  plain  layman,  he  said, 
and  perhaps  he  ought  not  to  speak  in  the  presence  of  so 
many  reverend  gentlemen,  but  he  was  very  grateful  to 
Doctor  Saunderson  for  his  honourable  and  straightforward 
conduct.  It  would  be  better  for  the  Church  if  there 
were  more  like  him,  and  he  would  just  like  to  ask  Mr. 
Carmichael  one  or  two  questions.  Did  he  sign  the  Con- 
fession?—  that  was  one;  and  had  he  kept  it? — that 
was  two  ;  and  the  last  was,  When  did  he  propose  to  go  ? 
He  knew  something  about  building  contracts,  and  he 
had  heard  of  a  penalty  when  a  contract  was  broken. 
There  was  just  one  thing  more  he  would  like  to  say  — 
if  there  was  less  loose  theology  in  the  pulpit  there  would 
be  more  money  in  the  plate.  The  shame  of  the  Rabbi 
during  this  harangue  was  pitiable  to  behold. 

Then  a  stalwart  arose  on  the  other  side,  and  a  young 
gentleman  who  had  just  escaped  from  a  college  debating 
society  wished  to  know  what  century  we  were  living  in, 
warned  the  last  speaker  that  the  progress  of  theological 
science  would  not  be  hindered  by  mercenary  threats, 
advised  Doctor  Saunderson  to  read  a  certain  German, 
called  Ritschl,  —  as  if  he  had  been  speaking  to  a  babe 
in  arms,  —  and  was  refreshing  himself  with  a  Latin 
quotation,  when  the  Rabbi,  in  utter  absence  of  mind, 
corrected  a  false  quantity  aloud. 

"  Moderator,"  the  old  man  apologised  in  much  con- 
fusion, "  I  wot  not  what  I  did,  and  I  pray  my  reverend 
brother,  whose  interesting  and  instructive  address  I  have 
interrupted  by  this  unmannerliness,  to  grant  me  his 


298  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

pardon,  for  my  tongue  simply  obeyed  my  ear."  Which 
untoward  incident  brought  the  modern  to  an  end,  as  by 
a  stroke  of  ironical  fate.  It  seemed  to  the  clerk  that 
little  good  to  any  one  concerned  was  to  come  out  of  this 
debate,  and  he  signalled  to  Doctor  Dovvbiggin,  with 
whom  he  had  dined  the  night  before,  when  they  con- 
cocted a  motion  over  their  wine.  Whereupon  that 
astute  man  explained  to  the  court  that  he  did  not  desire 
to  curtail  the  valuable  discussion,  from  which  he  person- 
ally had  derived  much  profit,  but  he  had  ventured  to 
draw  up  a  motion,  simply  for  the  guidance  of  the  House 
—  it  was  said  by  the  Rabbi's  boys  that  the  Doctor's 
success  as  an  ecclesiastic  was  largely  due  to  the  skilful 
use  of  such  phrases  —  and  then  he  read  :  "  Whereas  the 
Church  is  set  in  all  her  courts  for  the  defence  of  the 
truth,  whereas  it  is  reported  that  various  erroneous  doc- 
trines are  being  promulgated  in  books  and  other  public 
prints,  whereas  it  has  been  stated  that  one  of  the  min- 
isters of  this  Presbytery  has  used  words  that  might  be 
supposed  to  give  sanction  to  a  certain  view  which  ap- 
pears to  conflict  with  statements  contained  in  the  stand- 
ards of  the  Church,  the  Presbytery  of  Muirtown  declares 
first  of  all,  its  unshaken  adherence  to  the  said  standards ; 
secondly,  deplores  the  existence  in  any  quarter  of  notions 
contradictory  or  subversive  of  said  standards ;  thirdly, 
thanks  Doctor  Saunderson  for  the  vigilance  he  has  shown 
in  the  cause  of  sound  doctrine ;  fourthly,  calls  upon  all 
ministers  within  the  bounds  to  have  a  care  that  they 
create  no  offence  or  misunderstanding  by  their  teaching, 
and  finally  enjoins  all  parties  concerned  to  cultivate 
peace  and  charity." 

This  motion  was  seconded  by  the  clerk  and  carried 
unanimously, — Carmichael  being  compelled  to  silence 


THE   WOUNDS   OF   A   FRIEND.  299 

by  the  two  wise  men  for  his  own  sake  and  theirs,  —  and 
was  declared  to  be  a  conspicuous  victory  both  by  the 
self-made  man  and  the  modern,  which  was  another  trib- 
ute to  the  ecclesiastical  gifts  of  Doctor  Dowbiggin  and 
the  clerk  of  the  Presbytery  of  Muirtown. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

LIGHT    AT    EVENTIDE. 


HE  Rabbi  had  been  careful  to  send 
an  abstract  of  his  speech  to  Car- 
michael,  with  a  letter  enough  to 
melt  the  heart  even  of  a  self- 
sufficient  young  clerical ;  and  Car- 
michael  had  considered  how  he 
should  bear  himself  at  the  Presby- 
tery. His  intention  had  been  to  meet 
the  Rabbi  with  public  cordiality  and 
escort  him  to  a  seat,  so  that  all  men  should 
see  that  he  was  too  magnanimous  to  be 
offended  by  this  latest  eccentricity  of  their 
friend.  This  calculated  plan  was  upset  by 
the  Rabbi  coming  in  late  and  taking  the 
first  seat  that  offered,  and  when  he  would 
have  gone  afterwards  to  thank  him  for  his 
generosity  the  Rabbi  had  disappeared.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  the  old  man's  love  was  as  deep  as  ever,  but 
that  he  was  much  hurt,  and  would  not  risk  another  re- 
pulse. Very  likely  he  had  walked  in  from  Kilbogie, 
perhaps  without  breakfast,  and  had  now  started  to  re- 
turn to  his  cheerless  manse.  It  was  a  wetting  spring 
rain,  and  he  remembered  that  the  Rabbi  had  no  coat. 
A  fit  of  remorse  overtook  Carmichael,  and  he  scoured 
the  streets  of  Muirtovvn  to  find  the  Rabbi,  imagining 


LIGHT   AT    EVENTIDE.  301 

deeds  of  attention  —  ho\v  he  would  capture  him  una- 
wares mooning  along  some  side  street  hopelessly  astray ; 
how  he  would  accuse  him  of  characteristic  cunning  and 
deep  plotting ;  how  he  would  carry  him  by  force  to  the 
Kilspindie  Arms  and  insist  upon  their  dining  in  state ; 
how  the  Rabbi  would  wish  to  discharge  the  account  and 
find  twopence  in  his  pockets  —  having  given  all  his  sil- 
ver to  an  ex-Presbyterian  minister  stranded  in  Muirtown 
through   peculiar  circumstances ;    how  he  would  speak 
gravely  to  the  Rabbi  on  the  lack  of  common  honesty, 
and  threaten  a  real  prosecution,  when  the  charge  would 
be  "obtaining  a  dinner  on  false  pretences;"  how  they 
would  journey  to  Kildrummie  in  high  content,  and  — 
the  engine  having  whistled  for  a  dog-cart  —  they  would 
drive  to  Drumtochty  manse,  the  sun  shining  through  the 
rain  as  they  entered  the  garden  ;  how  he  would  compass 
the  Rabbi  with  observances,  and  the  old  man  would  sit 
again  in  the  big  chair  full  of  joy  and  peace.     Ah,  the 
kindly  jests  that  have  not  come  off  in  life,  the  gracious 
deeds  that  never  were  done,  the  reparations  that  were 
too  late  !     When  Carmichael    reached  the  station  the 
Rabbi  was  already  half  way  to  Kilbogie,  trudging  along 
wet  and  weary  and  very  sad,  because,  although  he  had 
obeyed  his  conscience  at  a  cost,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
he  had  simply  alienated  the  boy  whom  God  had  given 
him  as  a  son  in  his  old  age,  for  even  the  guileless  Rabbi 
suspected  that   the    ecclesiastics  considered  his  action 
foolishness  and  of  no  service   to  the  Church   of  God. 
Barbara's  language  on  his  arrival  was  vituperative  to  a 
degree ;  she  gave  him  food  grudgingly,  and  when,  in  the 
early  morning,  he  fell  asleep  over  an  open  Father,  he 
was   repeating  Carmichael's   name,  and   the   thick  old 
paper  was  soaked  with  tears. 


302  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

His  nemesis  seized  Carmichael  so  soon  as  he  reached 
the  Dunleith  train  in  the  shape  of  the  Free  Kirk  min- 
ister of  Kildrummie,  who  had  purchased  six  pounds  of 
prize  seed  potatoes,  and  was  carrying  the  treasure  home 
in  a  paper  bag.     This  bag  had  done  after  its  kind,  and 
as  the  distinguished  agriculturist  had  not  seen  his  feet 
for  years,  and  could  only  have  stooped  at  the  risk  of 
apoplexy,  he  watched  the  dispersion  of  his  potatoes  with 
dismay,  and  hailed  the  arrival  of  Carmichael  with  excla- 
mations of  thankfulness.     It  is  wonderful  over  what  an 
area  six  pounds  of  (prize)   potatoes  can  deploy  on  a 
railway  platform,  and   how  the  feet  of  passengers  will 
carry  them  unto  far  distances.     Some  might  never  have 
been  restored  to  the  bag  had  it  not  been  for  Kildrum- 
mie's  comprehensive    eye    and   the    physical  skill  with 
which  he  guided   Carmichael,   till  even   prodigals  that 
had  strayed  over  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Aberdeen 
express  were  restored  to  the  extemporised  fold  in  the 
minister's  top-coat  pockets.     Carmichael  had  knelt  on 
that  very  platform  six  months  or  so  before,  but  then  he. 
stooped  in  the  service  of  two  most  agreeable  dogs  and 
under  the  approving  eyes  of  Miss  Carnegie ;  that  was  a 
different  experience  from  hunting  after  single  potatoes 
on  all  fours  among  the  feet  of  unsympathetic  passengers, 
and  being  prodded  to  duty  by  the  umbrella  of  an  obese 
Free  Kirk  minister.     As  a  reward  for  this  service  of  the 
aged,  he  was  obliged  to  travel  to  Kildrummie  with  his 
neighbour — in  whom  for  the  native  humour  that  was  in 
him  he  had  often  rejoiced,  but  whose  company  was  not 
congenial  that  day  —  and  Kildrummie  laid  himself  out 
for  a  pleasant  talk.     After  the  roots  had  been  secured 
and  their  pedigree  stated,  Kildrummie  fell  back  on  the 
proceedings  of  Presbytery,  expressing  much  admiration 


LIGHT   AT    EVENTIDE.  303 

for  the  guidance  of  Doctor  Dowbiggin  and  denouncing 
Saunderson  as  "  fair  dottle,"  in  proof  of  which  judgment 
Kildrummie  adduced  the  fact  that  the  Rabbi  had  al- 
lowed a  very  happily  situated  pigsty  to  sink  into  ruin. 
Kildrummie,  still  in  search  of  agreeable  themes  to  pass 
the  time,  mentioned  a  pleasant  tale  he  had  gathered  at 
the  seed  shop. 

"  Yir  neebur  upbye,  the  General's  dochter,  is  cairryin' 
on  an  awfu'  rig  the  noo  at  the  Castle  "  —  Kildrummie 
fell  into  dialect  in  private  life,  often  with  much  richness 
—  "  an'  the  sough  o'  her  ongaeins  hes  come  the  length 
o'  Muirtown.  The  place  is  foo'  o'  men  —  tae  say 
naethin'  o'  weemin ;  but  it 's  little  she  hes  tae  dae  wi' 
them  or  them  wi'  her  —  officers  frae  Edinburgh  an' 
writin'  men  frae  London,  as  weel  as  half  a  dozen  coonty 
birkies." 

"Well?"  said  Carmichael,  despising  himself  for  his 
curiosity. 

"  She  hes  a  wy,  there  's  nae  doot  o'  that,  an'  gin  the 
trimmie  hesna  turned  the  heads  o'  half  the  men  in  the 
Castle,  till  they  say  she  hes  the  pick  of  twa  lords,  five 
honourables,  and  a  poet.  But  the  lassie  kens  what 's 
what ;  it 's  Lord  Hay  she  's  settin'  her  cap  for,  an'  as 
sure  as  ye  're  sittin'  there,  Drum,  she  '11  hae  him. 

"Ma  word"  —  and  Kildrummie  pursued  his  way  — 
"  it  '11  be  a  match,  the  dochter  o'  a  puir  Hielant  laird, 
wi'  naethin'  but  his  half  pay  and  a  few  pounds  frae  a 
fairm  or  twa.  She  's  a  clever  ane ;  French  songs? 
dancin',  shootin',  ridin',  actin',  there 's  nae  deevilry 
that 's  beyond  her.  They  say  upbye  that  she 's  been 
a  bonnie  handfu'  tae  her  father  —  General  though  he 
be  —  an'  a'  peety  her  man." 

"They  say  a  lot  of  ...  lies,  and  I  don't  see  what 


3o4  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

call  a  minister  has  to  slander  .  .  .  ,"  and  then  Car- 
michael  saw  the  folly  of  quarrelling  with  a  veteran  gos- 
sip over  a  young  woman  that  would  have  nothing  to  say 
to  him.  What  two  Free  Kirk  ministers  or  their  people 
thought  of  her  would  never  affect  Miss  Carnegie. 

"  Truth  's  nae  slander,"  and  Kildrummie  watched  Car- 
michael  with  relish ;  "  a'  thocht  ye  wud  hae  got  a  taste 
o'  her  in  the  Glen.  Didna  a'  heer  frae  Piggie  Walker 
that  ye  ca'd  her  Jezebel  frae  yir  ain  pulpit,  an1  that 
ma  lady  whuppit  oot  o'  the  kirk  in  the  middle  o'  the 
sermon?" 

"  I  did  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  Walker  is  a  .  .  ." 

"  Piggie  's  no  very  particular  at  a  time,"  admitted  Kil- 
drummie ;  "  maybe  it 's  a  makup  the  story  aboot  Miss 
Carnegie  an"  yirsel'. 

"AccordhY  to  the  wratch,"  for  Carmichael  would 
deign  no  reply,  "  she  wes  threatenin'  tae  mak  a  fule  o' 
the  Free  Kirk  minister  o'  Drumtochty  juist  for  practice, 
but  a'  said,  '  Na,  na,  Piggie,  Maister  Carmichael  is  ower 
quiet  and  sensible  a  lad.  He  kens  as  weel  as  onybody 
that  a  Carnegie  wud  never  dae  for  a  minister's  wife. 
Gin  ye  said  a  Bailie's  dochter  frae  Muirtown  'at  hes  some 
money  comin'  tae  her  and  kens  the  principles  o'  the  Free 
Kirk.' 

"Noo  a'  can  speak  frae  experience,  having  been  terri- 
ble fortunate  wi'  a'  ma  wives.  ...  Ye  '11  come  up  tae 
tea ;  we  killed  a  pig  yesterday,  and  .  .  .  Weel,  weel,  a 
wilfu'  man  maun  hae  his  wy,"  and  Carmichael,  as  he 
made  his  way  up  the  hill,  felt  that  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence was  heavy  upon  him,  and  that  any  highmindedness 
was  being  severely  chastened. 

Two  days  Carmichael  tramped  the  moors,  returning 
each  evening  wet,  weary,  hungry,  to  sleep  ten  hours 


LIGHT   AT   EVENTIDE. 


3^5 


without  turning,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  he 
came  down  in  such  heart  that  Sarah  wondered  whether 
he  could  have  received  a  letter  by  special  messenger; 
and  he  congratulated  himself,  as  he  walked  round  his 
garden,  that  he  had  overcome  by  sheer  will-power  the 
first  real  infatuation  of  his  life.  He  was  so  lifted  above 
all  sentiment  as  to  review  his  temporary  folly  from  the 
bare,  serene  heights  of  common-sense.  Miss  Carnegie 
was  certainly  not  an  heiress,  and  she  was  a  young  woman 
of  very  decided  character,  but  her  blood  was  better  than 
the  Hays',  and  she  was  .  .  .  attractive  —  yes,  attractive. 
Most  likely  she  was  engaged  to  Lord  Hay,  or  if  he  did 
not  please  her  —  she  was  .  .  .  whimsical  and  .  .  .  self- 
willed  —  there  was  Lord  Invermay's  son.  Fancy  Kate 
.  .  .  Miss  Carnegie  in  a  Free  Kirk  manse  —  Kildrummie 
was  a  very  .  .  .  homely  old  man,  but  he  touched  the 
point  there  —  receiving  Doctor  Dowbiggin  with  becom- 
ing ceremony  and  hearing  him  on  the  payment  of 
probationers,  or  taking  tea  at  Kildrummie  Manse  — 
where  he  had,  however,  feasted  royally  many  a  time  after 
the  Presbytery,  but.  .  .  .  This  daughter  of  a  Jacobite 
house,  and  brought  up  amid  the  romance  of  war,  settling 
down  in  the  narrowest  circle  of  Scottish  life  —  as  soon 
imagine  an  eagle  domesticated  among  barn-door  poultry. 
This  image  amused  Carmichael  so  much  that  he  could 
have  laughed  aloud,  but  .  .  .  the  village  might  have 
heard  him.  He  only  stretched  himself  like  one  awaking, 
and  felt  so  strong  that  he  resolved  to  drop  in  on  Janet  to 
see  how  it  fared  with  the  old  woman  and  ...  to  have 
Miss  Carnegie's  engagement  confirmed.  The  Carnegies 
might  return  any  day  from  the  South,  and  it  would  be 
well  that  he  should  know  how  to  meet  them. 

"  You  will  be  hearing  that  they  hef  come  back  to  the 


306  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

Lodge  yesterday  morning,  and  it  iss  myself  that  will  be 
glad  to  see  Miss  Kate  again ;  and  very  pretty  iss  she 
looking,  with  peautiful  dresses  and  bonnets,  for  I  hef 
seen  them  all,  maybe  twelve  or  ten. 

"  Oh  yes,  my  dear,  Donald  will  be  talking  about  her 
marriage  to  Lord  Kilspindie's  son,  who  iss  a  very  hand- 
some young  man  and  good  at  the  shooting ;  and  he  will 
be  blowing  that  they  will  live  at  the  Lodge  in  great  state, 
with  many  gillies  and  a  piper. 

"No,  it  iss  not  Janet  Macpherson,  my  dear,  that  will 
be  believing  Donald  Cameron,  or  any  Cameron  —  al- 
though I  am  not  saying  that  the  Camerons  are  not  men 
of  their  hands  —  for  Donald  will  be  always  making  great 
stories  and  telling  me  wonderful  things.  He  wass  a 
brave  man  in  the  battle,  and  iss  very  clever  at  the  doc- 
trine too,  and  will  be  strong  against  human  himes 
(hymns),  but  he  iss  a  most  awful  liar  iss  Donald  Cameron, 
and  you  must  not  be  believing  a  word  that  comes  out  of 
his  mouth. 

"  She  will  be  asking  many  questions  in  her  room  as 
soon  as  Donald  had  brought  up  her  boxes  and  the  door 
was  shut.  Some  will  be  about  the  Glen,  and  some  about 
the  garden,  and  some  will  be  about  people — whether 
you  ever  will  be  visiting  me,  and  whether  you  asked  for 
her  after  the  day  she  left  the  kirk.  But  I  will  say,  '  No ; 
Mr.  Carmichael  does  not  speak  about  anything  but  the 
religion  when  he  comes  to  my  cottage.' 

"That  iss  nothing.  I  will  be  saying  more,  that  I  am 
hearing  that  the  minister  iss  to  be  married  to  a  fery  rich 
young  lady  in  Muirtown  who  hass  been  courting  him  for 
two  years,  and  that  her  father  will  be  giving  the  minister 
twenty  thousand  pounds  the  day  they  are  married.  And 
I  will  say  she  iss  very  beautiful,  with  blue  eyes  and  gold 


LIGHT   AT   EVENTIDE.  307 

hair,  and  that  her  temper  iss  so  sweet  they  are  calling 
her  the  Angel  of  Muirtown. 

"Toot,  toot,  my  dear,  you  are  not  to  be  speaking 
about  lies,  for  that  iss  not  a  pretty  word  among  friends, 
and  you  will  not  be  meddling  with  me,  for  you  will  be 
better  at  the  preaching  and  the  singing  than  dealing  with 
women.  It  iss  not  good  to  be  making  yourself  too  com- 
mon, and  Miss  Kate  will  be  thinking  the  more  of  you  if 
you  be  holding  your  head  high  and  letting  her  see  that 
you  are  not  a  poor  lowland  body,  but  a  Farquharson  by 
your  mother's  side,  and  maybe  of  the  chiefs  blood,  though 
twenty  or  fifteen  times  removed. 

"  She  will  be  very  pleased  to  hear  such  good  news  of 
you,  and  be  saying  that  it  iss  a  mercy  you  are  getting 
somebody  to  dress  you  properly.  But  her  temper  will 
not  be  at  all  good,  and  I  did  not  ask  her  about  Lord  Hay, 
and  she  said  nothing  to  me,  nor  about  any  other  lord. 
It  iss  not  often  I  hef  seen  as  great  a  liar  as  Donald 
Cameron. 

"  Last  evening  Miss  Kate  will  come  down  before  dinner 
and  talk  about  many  things,  and  then  she  will  say  at  the 
door,  '  Donald  tells  me  that  Mister  Carmichael  does  not 
believe  in  the  Bible,  and  that  his  minister,  Doctor  Saun- 
derson,  has  cast  him  off,  and  that  he  has  been  punished 
by  his  Bishop  or  somebody  at  Muirtown.' 

"  '  Donald  will  be  knowing  more  doctrine  and  telling 
more  lies  every  month,'  I  said  to  her.  '  Doctor  Saunder- 
son  —  who  is  a  very  fine  preacher  and  can  put  the  fear 
of  God  upon  the  people  most  wonderful  —  and  our 
minister  had  a  little  feud,  and  they  will  fight  it  out 
before  some  chiefs  at  Muirtown  like  gentlemen,  and  now 
they  are  good  friends  again.' 

"  Miss  Kate  had  gone  off  for  a  long  walk,  and  I  am 


3o8  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

not  saying  that  she  will  be  calling  at  Kilbogie  Manse 
before  she  comes  back.  She  is  very  fond  of  Doctor 
Saunderson,  and  maybe  he  will  be  telling  her  of  the 
feud.  It  iss  more  than  an  hour  through  the  woods  to 
Kilbogie,"  concluded  Janet,  "  but  you  will  be  having  a 
glass  of  milk  first." 

Kate  reviewed  her  reasons  for  the  expedition  to  Kil- 
bogie, and  settled  they  were  the  pleasures  of  a  walk 
through  Tochty  woods  when  the  spring  flowers  were  in 
their  glory,  and  a  visit  to  one  of  the  dearest  curiosities 
she  had  ever  seen.  It  was  within  the  bounds  of  possi- 
bility that  Doctor  Saunderson  might  refer  to  his  friend, 
but  on  her  part  she  would  certainly  not  refer  to  the 
Free  Church  minister  of  Drumtochty.  Her  reception  by 
that  conscientious  professor  Barbara  could  not  be  called 
encouraging. 

"  Ay,  he  's  in,  but  ye  canna  see  him,  for  he 's  in  his 
bed,  and  gin  he  disna  mend  faster  than  he  wes  daein'  the 
last  time  a'  gied  him  a  cry,  he  's  no  like  to  be  in  the 
pulpit  on  Sabbath.  A'  wes  juist  thinkin'  he  wudna  be 
the  waur  o'  a  doctor." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Doctor  Saunderson  is  lying 
ill  and  no  one  nursing  him?  "  and  Kate  eyed  the  house- 
keeper in  a  very  unappreciative  fashion. 

"  Gin  he  wants  a  nurse  she  '11  hae  tae  be  brocht  frae 
Muirtown  Infirmary,  for  a  've  eneuch  withoot  ony  fyke 
(delicate  work)  o'  that  kind.  For  twal  year  hev  a'  been 
hoosekeeper  in  this  manse,  an'  gin  it  hedna  been  for 
peety  a'  wad  hae  flung  up  the  place. 

"  Ye  never  cud  tell  when  he  wud  come  in,  or  when 
he  wnd  gae  oot,  or  what  he  wud  be  wantin'  next.  A' 
the  waufies  in  the  countryside  come  "here,  and  the  best 
in  the  hoose  is  no  gude  eneuch  for  them.  He 's  been 


'AY,    HE'S   IX,    BUT    YE    CANNA    SEE    HIM.' 


3io  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

an  awfu'  handfu'  tae  me,  an'  noo  a'  coont  him  clean 
dottle.  But  we  maun  juist  bear  oor  burdens,"  concluded 
Barbara  piously,  and  proposed  to  close  the  door. 

"  Your  master  will  not  want  a  nurse  a  minute  longer ; 
show  me  his  room  at  once,"  and  Kate  was  so  command- 
ing that  Barbara's  courage  began  to  fail. 

"Who  may  ye  be,"  raising  her  voice  to  rally  her 
heart,  "  'at  wud  take  chairge  o'  a  strainger  in  his  ain 
hoose  an'  no  sae  muckle  as  ask  leave?" 

"  I  am  Miss  Carnegie,  of  Tochty  Lodge ;  will  you 
stand  out  of  my  way?"  and  Kate  swept  past  Barbara 
and  went  upstairs. 

"  Weel,  a'  declare,"  as  soon  as  she  had  recovered, 
"  of  a'  the  impudent  hizzies,"  but  Barbara  did  not  follow 
the  intruder  upstairs. 

Kate  had  seen  various  curious  hospitals  in  her  day, 
and  had  nursed  many  sick  men,  —  like  the  brave  girl 
she  was, —  but  the  Rabbi's  room  was  something  quite 
new.  His  favourite  books  had  been  gathering  there  for 
years,  and  now  lined  two  walls  and  overhung  the  bed 
after  a  very  perilous  fashion,  and  had  dispossessed  the 
looking-glass,  —  which  had  become  a  nomad  and  was  at 
present  resting  insecurely  on  John  Owen,  —  and  stood 
in  banks  round  the  bed.  During  his  few  days  of  illness 
the  Rabbi  had  accumulated  so  many  volumes  round  him 
that  he  lay  in  a  kind  of  tunnel,  arched  over,  as  it  were, 
with  literature.  He  had  been  reading  Calvin's  Com- 
mentary on  the  Psalms,  in  Latin,  and  it  still  lay  open  at 
the  88th,  the  saddest  of  all  songs  in  the  Psalter ;  but  as 
he  grew  weaker  the  heavy  folio  had  slid  forward,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  feeling  for  it.  Although  Kate  spoke  to 
him  by  name,  he  did  not  know  any  one  was  in  the 
room.  "Lord,  why  easiest  Thou  off  my  soul?  .  .  .  I 


LIGHT   AT   EVENTIDE.  311 

suffer  Thy  terror,  I  am  distracted  .  .  .  fierce  wrath  goeth 
over  me  ...  lover  and  friend  hast  Thou  put  far  from 
me  .  .  .  friend  far  from  me." 

His  head  fell  on  his  breast,  his  breath  was  short  and 
rapid,  and  he  coughed  every  few  seconds. 

"  My  friend  far  from  me  .  .  .  " 

At  the  sorrow  in  his  voice,  and  the  thing  which  he 
said,  the  tears  came  to  Kate's  eyes,  and  she  went  for- 
ward and  spoke  to  him  very  gently.  "  Do  you  know 
me,  Dr.  Saunderson,  Miss  Carnegie  ?" 

"  Not  Saunderson  .  .  .  Magor  Missabib." 

"Rabbi,  Rabbi" — so  much  she  knew;  and  now 
Kate  stroked  the  bent  white  head.  "  Your  friend,  Mister 
Carmichael  ..." 

"Yes,  yes"  —he  now  looked  up,  and  spoke  eagerly 
—  "  John  Carmichael,  of  Drumtochty  .  .  .  my  friend  in 
my  old  age  .  .  .  and  others  .  .  .  my  boys  .  .  .  but  John 
has  left  me  ...  he  would  not  speak  to  me  ...  I  am 
alone  now  ...  he  did  not  understand  .  .  .  mine  ac- 
quaintance into  darkness  .  .  .  here  we  see  in  a  glass 
darkly  .  .  ."  (he  turned  aside  to  expound  the  Greek 
word  for  darkly),  "but  some  day  .  .  .  face  to  face." 
And  twice  he  said  it,  with  an  indescribable  sweetness, 
"  face  to  face." 

Kate  hurriedly  removed  the  books  from  the  bed,  and 
wrapt  round  his  shoulders  the  old  grey  plaid  that  had 
eked  out  his  covering  at  night,  and  then  she  went  down- 
stairs. 

"Bring,"  she  said  to  Barbara,  "hot  water,  soap, 
towels,  and  a  sponge  to  Doctor  Saunderson's  bedroom, 
immediately." 

"And  gin  a'  dinna?"  inquired  Barbara  aggressively. 

"  I  '11  shoot  you  where  you  stand." 


3i2  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Barbara  shows  to  her  cronies  how  Miss  Carnegie  drew 
a  pistol  from  her  pocket  at  this  point  and  held  it  to  her 
head,  and  how  at  every  turn  the  pistol  was  again  in  evi- 
dence ;  sometimes  a  dagger  is  thrown  in,  but  that  is  only 
late  in  the  evening  when  Barbara  is  under  the  influence 
of  tonics.  Kate  herself  admits  that  if  she  had  had  her 
little  revolver  with  her  she  might  have  been  tempted  to 
outline  the  housekeeper's  face  on  the  wall,  and  she  still 
thinks  her  threat  an  inspiration. 

"  Now,"  said  Kate,  when  Barbara  had  brought  her 
commands  in  with  incredible  celerity,  "  bring  up  some 
fresh  milk  and  three  glasses  of  whisky." 

"  Whisky  !  "  Barbara  could  hardly  compass  the  un- 
familiar word.  "  The  Doctor  never  hed  sic  a  thing  in 
the  hoose,  although  mony  a  time,  puir  man  .  .  ."  Dis- 
cipline was  softening  even  that  austere  spirit. 

"No,  but  you  have,  for  you  are  blowing  a  full  gale 
just  now  ;  bring  up  your  private  bottle,  or  I  '11  go  down 
for  it." 

"  There 's  enough,"  holding  the  bottle  to  the  light, 
"  to  do  till  evening ;  go  to  the  next  farm  and  send 
a  man  on  horseback  to  tell  Mr.  Carmichael  of  Drum- 
tochty,  that  Doctor  Saunderson  is  dying,  and  another  for 
Dr.  Manley  of  Muirtown." 

Very  tenderly  did  Kate  sponge  the  Rabbi's  face  and 
hands,  and  then  she  dressed  his  hair,  till  at  length  he 
came  to  himself. 

"This  ministry  is  ...  grateful  to  me,  Barbara  .  .  . 
my  strength  has  gone  from  me  .  .  .  but  my  eyes  fail 
me.  ...  Of  a  verity  you  are  not  .  .  ." 

"  I  am  Kate  Carnegie,  whom  you  were  so  kind  to  at 
Tochty.  Will  you  let  me  be  your  nurse?  I  learned  in 
India,  and  know  what  to  do."  It  was  only  wounded 


LIGHT   AT    EVENTIDE.  313 

soldiers  who  knew  how  soft  her  voice  could  be,  and 
hands. 

"  It  is  I  that  .  .  .  should  be  serving  you  .  .  .  the 
first  time  you  have  come  to  the  manse  ...  no  woman 
has  ever  done  me  .  .  .  such  kindness  before.  ..."  He 
followed  her  as  she  tried  to  bring  some  order  out  of 
chaos,  and  knew  not  that  he  spoke  aloud.  "  A  gracious 
maid  .  .  .  above  rubies." 

His  breathing  was  growing  worse,  in  spite  of  many 
wise  things  she  did  for  him  —  Doctor  Manley,  who  paid 
no  compliments,  but  was  a  strength  unto  every  country 
doctor  in  Perthshire,  praises  Kate  unto  this  day  —  and 
the  Rabbi  did  not  care  to  speak.  So  she  sat  down  by 
his  side  and  read  to  him  from  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  — 
holding  his  hand  all  the  time  —  and  the  passage  he 
desired  was  the  story  of  Mr.  Fearing. 

"This  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  Death  was  as  quiet  while  he  went  through 
it  as  ever  I  knew  it  before  or  since.  I  suppose  these 
enemies  here  had  now  a  special  check  from  our  Lord 
and  a  command  not  to  meddle  until  Mr.  Fearing  was 
passed  over  it.  ...  Here  also  I  took  notice  of  what 
was  very  remarkable  :  the  water  of  that  river  was  lower 
at  this  time  than  ever  I  saw  it  in  all  my  life.  So  he 
went  over  at  last,  not  much  above  wet-shod.  When  he 
was  going  up  to  the  gate.  .  .  ." 

The  Rabbi  listened  for  an  instant. 

"  It  is  John's  step  ...  he  hath  a  sound  of  his  own 
.  .  .  my  only  earthly  desire  is  fulfilled." 

"  Rabbi,"  cried  Carmichael,  and  half  kneeling,  he 
threw  one  arm  round  the  old  man,  "  say  that  you  forgive 
me.  I  looked  for  you  everywhere  on  Monday,  but  you 
could  not  be  found." 


3i4  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Did  you  think,  John,  that  I  ...  my  will  was  to  do 
you  an  injury  or  ...  vex  your  soul?  Many  trials  in  my 
life  ...  all  God's  will  .  .  .  but  this  hardest  .  .  .  when 
I  lost  you  .  .  .  nothing  left  here  .  .  .  but  you  ...  — 
my  breath  is  bad,  a  little  chill —  .  .  .  understand.  ..." 

'•'  I  always  did,  and  I  never  respected  you  more ;  it 
was  my  foolish  pride  that  made  me  call  you  Doctor 
Saunderson  in  the  study ;  but  my  love  was  the  same, 
and  now  you  will  let  me  stay  and  wait  on  you." 

The  old  man  smiled  sadly,  and  laid  his  hand  on  his 
boy's  head. 

"  I  cannot  let  you.  .  .  .  Go,  John,  my  son." 

"Go  and  leave  you,  Rabbi!"  Carmichael  tried  to 
laugh.  "  Not  till  you  are  ready  to  appear  at  the  Pres- 
bytery again.  We  '11  send  Barbara  away  for  a  holiday, 
and  Sarah  will  take  her  place,  —  you  remember  that 
cream,  —  and  we  shall  have  a  royal  time,  a  meal  every 
four  hours,  Rabbi,  and  the  Fathers  in  between,"  and 
Carmichael,  springing  to  his  feet  and  turning  round 
to  hide  his  tears,  came  face  to  face  with  Miss  Carnegie, 
who  had  been  unable  to  escape  from  the  room. 

"  I  happened  to  call  "  —  Kate  was  quite  calm  —  "  and 
found  Doctor  Saunderson  in  bed ;  so  I  stayed  till  some 
friend  should  come ;  you  must  have  met  the  messenger 
I  sent  for  you." 

"  Yes,  a  mile  from  the  manse  ;  I  was  on  my  way  .  .  . 
Janet  said  .  .  .  but  I  ...  did  not  remember  anything 
when  I  saw  the  Rabbi." 

"  Will  you  take  a  little  milk  again  .  .  .  Rabbi?"  and 
at  her  bidding  and  the  name  he  made  a  brave  effort  to 
swallow,  but  he  was  plainly  sinking. 

"  No  more,"  he  whispered  ;  "  thank  you  ...  for  ser- 
vice ...  to  a  lonely  man  ;  may  God  bless  you  .  .  . 


LIGHT   AT   EVENTIDE.  315 

both.  .  .  ."  He  signed  for  her  hand,  which  he  kept  to 
the  end. 

"  Satisfied  .  .  .  read,  John  .  .  .  the  woman  from  coasts 
Of_of— " 

"  I  know,  Rabbi,"  and  kneeling  on  the  other  side  of 
the  bed,  he  read  the  story  slowly  of  a  Tyrian  woman's 
faith. 

"  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  meat  and  cast 
it  to  dogs." 

"  Dogs  "  —  they  heard  the  Rabbi  appropriate  his  name 
— "  outside  .  .  .  the  covenant." 

"  And  she  said,  Truth,  Lord,  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the 
crumbs  which  fall  from  their  master's  table." 

"  Lord,  I  believe  .  .  .  help  Thou  mine  .  .  .  unbelief." 

He  then  fell  into  an  agony  of  soul,  during  which  Car- 
michael  could  hear:  "Though  .  .  .  He  slay  .  .  .me 
...  yet  will  I  trust  .  .  .  trust  ...  in  Him."  He 
drew  two  or  three  long  breaths  and  was  still.  After  a 
little  he  was  heard  again  with  a  new  note  —  "  He  that 
believeth  ...  in  Him  .  .  .  shall  not  be  confounded," 
and  again  "  A  bruised  reed  .  .  .  shall  He  not  .  .  ." 
Then  he  opened  his  eyes  and  raised  his  head  —  but  he 
saw  neither  Kate  nor  Carmichael,  for  the  Rabbi  had 
done  with  earthly  friends  and  earthly  trials  —  and  he, 
who  had  walked  in  darkness  and  seen  no  light,  said  in  a 
clear  voice  full  of  joy,  "  My  Lord,  and  my  God." 

It  was  Kate  that  closed  his  eyes  and  laid  the  old 
scholar's  head  on  the  pillow,  and  then  she  left  the  room, 
casting  one  swift  glance  of  pity  at  Carmichael,  who  was 
weeping  bitterly  and  crying  between  the  sobs,  "  Rabbi, 
Rabbi." 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


WITHOUT  FEAR  AND  WITHOUT  REPROACH. 

OCTOR  DAVIDSON  allowed 
-himself,  in  later  years,  the  pleasant 
luxury  of  an  after  luncheon  nap, 
and  then  it  was  his  habit  — 
weather  permitting  —  to  go  out 
and  meet  Posty,  who  adhered  so 
closely  to  his  time-table  —  not- 
withstanding certain  wayside  rests 
—  that  the  Doctor's  dog  knew  his 
hour  of  arrival,  and  saw  that  his 
master  was  on  the  -road  in  time.  It 
was  a  fine  April  morning  when  the 
news  of  the  great  disaster  came,  and 
the  Doctor  felt  the  stirring  of  spring 
in  his  blood.  On  the  first  hint  from 
Skye  he  sprang  from  his  chair,  de- 
claring it  was  a  sin  to  be  in  the  house  on  such  a  day,  and 
went  out  in  such  haste  that  he  had  to  return  for  his  hat. 
As  he  went  up  the  walk,  the  Doctor  plucked  some  early 
lilies  and  placed  them  in  his  coat  ;  he  threw  so  many 
stones  that  Skye  forgot  his  habit  of  body  and  ecclesias- 
tical position  ;  and  he  was  altogether  so  youthful  and 
frolicsome  that  John  was  seriously  alarmed,  and  after- 
wards remarked  to  Rebecca  that  he  was  not  unprepared 
for  calamity. 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       317 

"  The  best  o's  tempts  Providence  at  a  time,  and  when 
a  man  like  the  Doctor  tries  tae  rin  aifter  his  dog  jidg- 
ment  canna  be  far  off.  A  'm  no  sayin',''  John  con- 
cluded, with  characteristic  modesty,  "  that  onybody  cud 
tell  what  was  coming,  but  a'  jaloused  there  wud  be 
tribble." 

The  Doctor  met  Posty  in  the  avenue,  the  finest  bit  on 
our  main  road,  where  the  road  has  wide  margins  of  grass 
on  either  side,  and  the  two  rows  of  tall  ancient  trees 
arch  their  branches  overhead.  Some  day  in  the  past  it 
had  been  part  of  the  approach  to  the  house  of  Tochty, 
and  under  this  long  green  arch  the  Jacobite  cavaliers 
rode  away  after  black  John  Carnegie's  burial.  No  one 
could  stand  beneath  those  stately  trees  without  thinking 
of  the  former  days,  when  men  fought  not  for  money  and 
an  easy  life,  but  for  loyalty  and  love,  and  in  this  place  the 
minister  of  Drumtochty  received  his  evil  tidings  like  a 
brave  gentleman  who  does  not  lose  heart  while  honour 
is  left.  During  his  years  in  the  Glen  he  had  carried 
himself  well,  with  dignity  and  charity,  in  peace  and 
kindliness,  so  that  now  when  he  is  dead  and  gone  —  the 
last  of  his  family — he  still  remains  to  many  of  us  a  type 
of  the  country  clergyman  that  is  no  longer  found  in 
Scotland,  but  is  greatly  missed.  It  seemed,  however,  to 
many  of  us  —  I  have  heard  both  Drumsheugh  and  Burn- 
brae  say  this,  each  in  his  own  way  —  that  it  needed  ad- 
versity to  bring  out  the  greatness  of  the  Doctor,  just  as 
frost  gives  the  last  touch  of  ripeness  to  certain  fruits. 

"  Power  letters  the  day,  Doctor,  ane  frae  Dunleith, 
ane  frae  Glasgie,  another  frae  Edinburgh,  and  the  fourth 
no  clean  stampit,  so  a'  can  say  naethin'  aboot  it.  Twa 
circulars  an'  the  Caledonian  maks  up  the  hale  hypothic." 

Posty  buckled  and  adjusted  his  bag,  and  made  as 


3i8  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

though  he  was  going,  but  he  loitered  to  give  opportunity 
for  any  questions  the  Doctor  might  wish  to  ask  on  for- 
eign affairs.  For  Posty  was  not  merely  the  carrier  of 
letters  to  the  Glen,  but  a  scout  who  was  sent  down  to 
collect  information  regarding  the  affairs  of  the  outer 
world.  He  was  an  introduction  to  and  running  com- 
mentary on  the  weekly  paper.  By-and-by,  when  the 
labour  of  the  day  was  done,  and  the  Glen  was  full  of 
sweet,  soft  light  from  the  sides  of  Ben  Urtach,  a  farmer 
would  make  for  his  favourite  seat  beside  the  white  rose- 
tree  in  the  garden,  and  take  his  first  dip  into  the  Muir- 
town  Advertiser.  It  was  a  full  and  satisfying  paper, 
with  its  agricultural  advertisements,  its  roups,  reported 
with  an  accuracy  of  detail  that  condescended  on  a  soli- 
tary stirk,  its  local  intelligence,  its  facetious  anecdotes. 
Through  this  familiar  country  the  good  man  found  his 
own  way  at  a  rate  which  allowed  him  to  complete  the 
survey  in  six  days.  Foreign  telegrams,  however,  and 
political  intelligence,  as  well  as  the  turmoil  of  the  great 
cities,  were  strange  to  him,  and  here  he  greatly  valued 
Posty's  laconic  hints,  who,  visiting  the  frontier,  was 
supposed  to  be  in  communication  with  those  centres. 
"  Posty  says  that  the  Afghans  are  no  makin'  muckle  o' 
the  war,"  and  Hillocks  would  sally  forth  to  enjoy  Sir 
Frederick  Roberts'  great  march,  line  by  line,  afterwards 
enlarging  thereon  with  much  unction,  and  laying  up  a 
store  of  allusion  that  would  last  for  many  days. 

Persons  raised  to  the  height  of  a  daily  newspaper  like 
the  minister  might  be  supposed  independent  of  Posty's 
precis,  but  even  Doctor  Davidson,  with  that  day's  Cale- 
donian in  his  hand,  still  availed  himself  of  the  spoken 
word. 

"  Well,  Posty,  any  news  this  morning?  " 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       319 

"  Naethin',  Doctor,  worth  mentionin',  except  the  fail- 
ure o'  a  company  Glasgie  wy ;  it 's  been  rotten,  a"  wes 
hearin',  for  a  while,  an'  noo  it's  fair  stramash.  They 
say  it  '11  no  be  lichtsome  for  weedows  an'  mony  decent 
fouk  in  Scotland." 

"  That 's  bad  news,  Posty.  There 's  too  many  of  those 
swindling  concerns  in  the  country.  People  ought  to  take 
care  where  they  place  their  savings,  and  keep  to  old- 
established  institutions.  We  're  pretty  hard-headed  up 
here,  and  I  '11  wager  that  nobody  in  the  Glen  has  lost  a 
penny  in  any  of  those  new-fangled  companies." 

"  The  auld  fouk  in  Drumtochty  pit  their  siller  in  a 
pock  and  hode  it  ablow  their  beds,  an',  ma  certes,  that 
bank  didna  break;"  and  Posty  went  along  the  avenue, 
his  very  back  suggestive  of  a  past,  cautious,  unenterpris- 
ing, safe  and  honest. 

The  Doctor  glanced  at  the  envelopes  and  thrust  the 
letters  into  his  pocket.  His  good  nature  was  touched  at 
the  thought  of  another  financial  disaster,  by  which  many 
hard-working  people  would  lose  their  little  savings,  and 
all  the  more  that  he  had  some  of  his  private  means 
invested  in  a  Glasgow  bank  —  one  of  those  tried  and 
powerful  institutions  which  was  indifferent  to  every  crisis 
in  trade.  Already  he  anticipated  an  appeal,  and  con- 
sidered what  he  would  give,  for  it  did  not  matter  whether 
it  was  a  coalpit  explosion  in  Lanarkshire  or  a  loss  of  fish- 
ing-boats in  the  Moray  Firth,  if  widows  needed  help  the 
Doctor's  guinea  was  on  its  way  within  four-and-twenty 
hours.  Some  forms  of  religious  philanthropy  had  very 
little  hold  on  the  Doctor's  sympathy  —  one  of  the  re- 
ligious prints  mentioned  him  freely  as  a  Unitarian,  be- 
cause he  had  spoken  unkindly  of  the  Jewish  mission  — 
but  in  the  matter  of  widows  and  orphans  he  was  a 
specialist. 


320  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Widows,  Posty  said  ;  poor  things  !  and  very  likely 
bairns.  Well,  well,  we  '11  see  what  can  be  done  out  of 
Daisy's  fund." 

Very  unlikely  people  have  their  whims,  and  it  was  his 
humour  to  assign  one  fourth  of  his  income  to  his  little 
sister,  who  was  to  have  kept  house  for  him,  and  "  never 
to  leave  you,  Sandie,"  and  out  of  this  fund  the  Doctor 
did  his  public  charities.  "  In  memory  of  a  little  maid," 
appeared  in  various  subscription  lists ;  but  the  reference 
thereof  was  only  known  after  the  Doctor's  death. 

"  The  Western  Counties  Bank  did  not  open  its  doors 
yesterday,  and  it  was  officially  announced  at  the  head- 
office,  Glasgow,  that  the  bank  had  stopped.  It  is  impos- 
sible as  yet  to  forecast  the  debts,  but  they  are  known  to  be 
enormous,  and  as  the  bank  is  not  limited,  it  is  feared  that 
the  consequences  to  the  shareholders  will  be  very  serious. 
This  failure  was  quite  unexpected,  the  Western  Counties 
Bank  having  been  looked  on  as  a  prosperous  and  stable 
concern." 

He  read  the  paragraph  twice  word  by  word  —  it  did 
not  take  long  —  he  folded  the  paper  carefully  and  put  it 
in  his  pocket,  and  he  stood  in  the  spot  for  five  minutes 
to  take  in  the  meaning  in  its  length  and  breadth.  A 
pleasant  spring  sun  was  shining  upon  him  through  a 
break  in  the  leafy  arch,  a  handful  of  primroses  were 
blooming  at  his  feet,  a  lark  was  singing  in  the  neighbour- 
ing field.  Sometimes  the  Doctor  used  to  speculate  how 
he  would  have  liked  being  a  poor  man,  and  he  concluded 
that  he  would  have  disliked  it  very  much.  He  had 
never  been  rich,  and  he  was  not  given  to  extravagance, 
but  he  was  accustomed  to  easy  circumstances,  and  he 
pitied  some  of  his  old  friends  who  had  seen  it  their  duty 
to  secede  at  the  Disruption,  and  had  to  practise  many 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       321 

little  economies,  who  travelled  third  class  and  had  to 
walk  from  the  station,  and  could  not  offer  their  friends 
a  glass  of  wine.  This  was  the  way  he  must  live  now, 
and  Daisy's  fund  would  have  to  be  closed,  which  seemed 
to  him  the  sweetest  pleasure  of  his  life. 

"  And  Jack  !  Would  to  God  I  had  never  mentioned 
this  wretched  bank  to  him.  Poor  Jack,  with  the  few 
hundreds  he  had  saved  for  Kit !  " 

For  some  five  minutes  more  the  Doctor  stood  in  the 
place ;  then  he  straightened  himself  as  one  who,  come 
what  may,  would  play  the  man,  and  when  he  passed 
Janet's  cottage,  on  his  way  to  the  Lodge,  that  honest 
admirer  of  able-bodied,  good-looking  men  came  out  and 
followed  him  with  her  eyes  for  the  sight  of  his  firm 
unbroken  carriage. 

"  Miss  Kate  will  be  grieving  very  much  about  Doctor 
Saunderson's  death,"  Donald  explained  at  the  Lodge, 
"  and  she  went  down  this  forenoon  with  the  General  to 
put  flowers  on  his  grave ;  but  they  will  be  coming  back 
every  minute,"  and  the  Doctor  met  them  at  the  Beeches. 

"  May  I  have  as  fair  hands  to  decorate  my  grave,  Miss 
Catherine  Carnegie,"  and  the  Doctor  bowed  gallantly ; 
"  but  of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  I  have  done  nothing  to 
deserve  it.  Saunderson  was  a  scholar  of  the  ancient 
kind,  and  a  very  fine  spirit." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  said  Kate,  "that  he  was  .  .  .  like 
A'Kempis,  I  mean,  and  George  Herbert,  a  kind  of  ... 
saint?  " 

"  Altogether  one,  I  should  say.  I  don't  think  he 
would  have  known  port  wine  from  sherry,  or  an  entree 
from  a  mutton  chop ;  beside  a  man  like  that  what 
worldly  fellows  you  and  I  are,  Jack,  and  mine  is  the 
greater  shame." 


\ .]        tw.iffm 


"TO   PUT   FLOWERS   ON   HIS   GRAVE." 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       323 

"  I  '11  have  no  comparisons,  Padre  "  —  Kate  was  a 
little  puzzled  by  the  tone  in  the  Doctor's  voice  ;  "  he  was 
so  good  that  I  loved  him  ;  but  there  are  some  points  in 
the  General  and  you,  quite  nice  points,  and  for  the  sake 
of  them  you  shall  have  afternoon  tea  in  my  room,"  where 
the  Doctor  and  the  General  fell  on  former  days  and  were 
wonderful  company. 

"  It 's  not  really  about  the  road  I  wish  to  talk  to  you," 
and  the  Doctor  closed  the  door  of  the  General's  den, 
"  but  about  ...  a  terrible  calamity  that  has  befallen 
you  and  me,  Jack,  and  I  am  to  blame." 

"  What  is  it?  "  and  Carnegie  sat  erect ;  "  does  it  touch 
our  name  or  ...  Kate?" 

"  Neither,  thank  God,"  said  Davidson. 

"  Then  it  cannot  be  so  very  bad.  Let  us  have  it  at 
once,"  and  the  General  lighted  a  cheroot. 

"  Our  bank  has  failed,  and  we  shall  have  to  give  up 
everything  to  pay  the  debt,  and  .  .  .  Jack,  it  was  I  ad- 
vised you  to  buy  the  shares."  The  Doctor  rose  and 
went  to  the  window. 

"  For  God's  sake  don't  do  that,  Sandie.  Why,  man, 
you  gave  me  the  best  advice  you  knew,  and  there  's  an 
end  of  it.  It  's  the  fortune  of  war,  and  we  must  take  it 
without  whining.  I  know  whom  you  are  thinking  about, 
and  I  am  ...  a  bit  sorry  for  Kate,  for  she  ought  to 
have  lots  of  things  —  more  dresses  and  trinkets,  you 
know.  But  Davidson,  she  '11  be  the  bravest  of  the 
three." 

"  You  are  right  there,  Jack.  Kate  is  of  the  true  grit, 
but  .  .  .  Tochty  Lodge." 

"  Yes,  it  will  hit  us  pretty  hard  to  see  the  old  place 
sold,  if  it  comes  to  that,  when  I  hoped  to  end  my  days 
here  .  .  .  but,  man,  it 's  our  fate.  Bit  by  bit  we  Ve  lost 


324  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Drumtochty,  till  there  were  just  the  woods  and  the  two 
farms  left,  and  soon  we  '11  be  out  of  the  place  —  nothing 
left  but  our  graves. 

"  Sandie,  this  is  bad  form,  and  .  .  .  you  Ml  not  hear 
this  talk  again ;  we  '11  get  a  billet  somewhere,  and 
wherever  it  be,  there  '11  be  a  bed  and  a  crust  for  you, 
old  man ;  "  and  at  the  door  the  two  held  one  another's 
hands  for  a  second ;  that  was  all. 

"  So  this  was  what  you  two  conspirators  were  talking 
about  downstairs,  as  if  I  could  not  be  trusted.  Did  you 
think  that  I  would  faint,  or  perhaps  weep  ?  The  padre 
deserves  a  good  scolding,  and  as  for  you  — "  Then 
Kate  went  over  and  cast  an  arm  round  her  father's  neck, 
whose  face  was  quivering. 

"  It  is  rather  a  disappointment  to  leave  the  Lodge 
when  we  were  getting  it  to  our  mind ;  but  we  '11  have  a 
jolly  little  home  somewhere,  and  I  '11  get  a  chance  of 
earning  something.  Dancing  now  —  I  think  that  I  might 
be  able  to  teach  some  girls  how  to  waltz.  Then  my 
French  is  really  intelligible,  and  most  colloquial ;  besides 
revolver  shooting.  Dad,  we  are  on  our  way  to  a  fortune, 
and  at  the  worst  you  '11  have  your  curry  and  cheroots, 
and  I  '11  have  a  well-fitting  dress.  Voila,  mon  pere." 

When  the  two  Drumtochty  men  arrived  next  forenoon 
at  the  hall  in  Glasgow,  where  the  shareholders  had  been 
summoned  to  receive  particulars  of  their  ruin,  the  dreary 
place  was  filled  with  a  crowd  representative  of  every 
class  in  the  community  except  the  highest,  whose 
wealth  is  in  land,  and  the  lowest,  whose  possessions 
are  on  their  backs.  There  were  city  merchants,  who 
could  not  conceal  their  chagrin  that  they  had  been 
befooled ;  countrymen,  who  seemed  utterly  dazed,  as  if 
the  course  of  the  seasons  had  been  reversed ;  prosperous 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       325 

tradesmen,  who  were  aggressive  in  appearance  and 
wanted  to  take  it  out  of  somebody ;  widows,  who  could 
hardly  restrain  their  tears,  seeing  before  them  nothing 
but  starvation ;  clergymen,  who  were  thinking  of  their 
boys  taken  from  school  and  college.  For  a  while  the 
victims  were  silent,  and  watched  with  hungry  eyes  the 
platform  door,  and  there  was  an  eager  rustle  when  some 
clerk  came  out  and  laid  a  bundle  of  papers  on  the  table. 
This  incident  seemed  to  excite  the  meeting  and  set 
tongues  loose.  People  began  to  talk  to  their  neighbours 
explaining  how  they  came  to  be  connected  with  the  bank, 
as  if  this  were  now  a  crime.  One  had  inherited  the  shares 
and  had  never  had  resolution  to  sell  them;  another 
had  been  deceived  by  a  friend  and  bought  them;  a 
third  had  taken  over  two  shares  for  a  bad  debt.  A 
minister  thought  that  he  must  have  been  summoned  by 
mistake,  for  he  was  simply  a  trustee  on  an  estate  which 
had  shares,  but  he  was  plainly  nervous  about  his  position. 
An  Ayrshire  Bailie  had  only  had  his  shares  for  six 
months,  and  he  put  it,  to  his  circle,  with  municipal  elo- 
quence, whether  he  could  be  held  responsible  for  frauds 
of  years'  standing.  No  one  argued  with  him,  and  indeed 
you  might  say  anything  you  pleased,  for  each  was  so 
much  taken  up  with  his  own  case  that  he  only  listened  to 
you  that  he  might  establish  a  claim  in  turn  on  your  at- 
tention. Here  and  there  a  noisy  and  confident  person- 
age got  a  larger  audience  by  professing  to  have  private 
information.  A  second-rate  stockbroker  assured  quite  a 
congregation  that  the  assets  of  the  bank  included  an 
estate  in  Australia,  which  would  more  than  pay  the  whole 
debt,  and  advised  them  to  see  that  it  was  not  flung 
away ;  and  a  Government  pensioner  mentioned  casually 
in  his  neighbourhood,  on  the  authority  of  one  of  the 


3z6  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

managers,  that  there  was  not  that  day  a  solvent  bank  in 
Scotland.  The  different  conversations  rise  to  a  babel, 
various  speakers  enforce  their  views  on  the  floor  with 
umbrellas,  one  enthusiast  exhorts  his  brother  unfortunates 
from  a  chair,  when  suddenly  there  is  a  hush,  and  then 
in  a  painful  silence  the  shareholders  hang  on  the  lips  of 
the  accountant,  from  whom  they  learn  that  things  could 
not  be  worse,  that  the  richest  shareholder  may  be 
ruined,  and  that  ordinary  people  will  lose  their  last 
penny. 

Speech  again  breaks  forth,  but  now  it  is  despairing, 
fierce,  vindictive.  One  speaker  storms  against  Govern- 
ment which  allows  public  institutions  to  defraud  the 
public,  and  refers  to  himself  as  the  widow  and  orphan, 
and  another  assails  the  directorate  with  bitter  invective 
as  liars  and  thieves,  and  insists  on  knowing  whether  they 
are  to  be  punished.  The  game  having  now  been  un- 
earthed, the  pack  follow  in  full  cry.  The  tradesman  tells 
with  much  gusto  how  one  director  asked  the  detectives 
for  leave  to  have  family  prayers  before  he  was  removed, 
and  then  declares  his  conviction  that  when  a  man  takes 
to  praying  you  had  better  look  after  your  watch.  Ayr- 
shire wished  to  inform  the  accountant  and  the  authorities 
that  the  directors  had  conveyed  to  their  wives  and  friends 
enormous  sums  which  ought  to  be  seized  without  delay. 
The  air  grew  thick  with  upbraidings,  complaints,  cries  for 
vengeance,  till  the  place  reeked  with  sordid  passions. 
Through  all  this  ignoble  storm  the  Drumtochty  men  sat 
silent,  amazed,  disgusted,  till  at  last  the  Doctor  rose,  and 
such  authority  was  in  his  very  appearance  that  with  his 
first  words  he  obtained  a  hearing. 

"  Mr.  Accountant,"  he  said,  "  and  gentlemen,  it  appears 
to  me  as  if  under  a  natural  provocation  and  suffering 


WITHOUT   FEAR   OR   REPROACH.       327 

we  are  in  danger  of  forgetting  our  due  dignity  and  self- 
respect.  \Ve  have  been,  as  is  supposed,  the  subjects  of 
fraud  on  the  part  of  those  whom  we  trusted ;  that  is  a 
matter  which  the  law  will  decide,  and,  if  necessary, 
punish.  If  we  have  been  betrayed,  then  the  directors 
are  in  worse  case  than  the  shareholders,  for  we  are  not 
disgraced.  The  duty  before  us  is  plain,  and  must  be  dis- 
charged to  our  utmost  ability.  It  is  to  go  home  and 
gather  together  our  last  penny  for  the  payment  of  our 
debts,  in  order  that  at  any  rate  those  who  have  trusted 
us  may  not  be  disappointed.  Gentlemen,  it  is  evident 
that  we  have  lost  our  means ;  let  us  show  to  Scotland 
that  there  is  something  which  cannot  be  taken  from  us 
by  any  fraud,  and  that  we  have  retained  our  courage  and 
our  honour." 

It  was  the  General  who  led  the  applause  so  that  the 
roof  of  the  hall  rang,  but  it  is  just  to  Ayrshire  and  the 
rest  to  say  that  they  came  to  themselves  —  all  men  of 
the  old  Scottish  breed  —  and  followed  close  after  with  a 
mighty  shout. 

The  sound  of  that  speech  went  through  Scotland  and 
awoke  the  spirit  of  honest  men  in  many  places,  so 
that  the  Doctor,  travelling  next  day  to  Muirtown,  third 
class,  with  the  General,  and  wedged  in  among  a  set  of 
cattle  dealers,  was  so  abashed  by  their  remarks  as  they 
read  the  Caledonian  that  the  General  let  out  the  secret. 

"Yir  hand,  sir,"  said  the  chief  among  them,  a  mighty 
man  at  the  Falkirk  Tryst ;  "  gin  it  bena  a  leeberty,  ilka 
ane  o's  hes  a  sair  fecht  tae  keep  straicht  in  oor  wy  o' 
business,  but  ye  've  gien  's  a  lift  the  day,"  and  so  they 
must  needs  all  have  a  grip  of  the  Doctor's  hand,  who 
took  snuff  with  prodigality,  while  the  General  complained 
of  the  smoke  from  the  engine. 


328  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

Nor  were  their  trials  over,  for  on  Muirtown  platform  — 
it  being  Friday  —  all  kinds  of  Perthshire  men  were 
gathered,  and  were  so  proud  of  our  Doctor  that  before 
he  got  shelter  in  the  Dunleith  train  his  hand  was  sore, 
and  the  men  that  grasped  it  were  of  all  kinds,  from  Lord 
Kilspindie  —  who,  having  missed  him  at  the  Manse,  had 
come  to  catch  him  at  the  station  —  "  Best  sermon  you 
ever  preached,  Davidson,"  —  to  an  Athole  farmer  —  "I 
am  an  elder  in  the  Free  Kirk,  but  it  iss  this  man  that 
will  be  honouring  you." 

It  was  a  fine  instance  of  the  unfailing  tact  of  Peter 
Bruce  that,  seeing  the  carriage  out  of  which  the  two 
came,  and  taking  in  the  situation,  he  made  no  offer  of 
the  first  class,  but  straightway  dusted  out  a  third  with  his 
handkerchief,  and  escorted  them  to  it  cap  in  hand. 
Drumtochty  restrained  itself  with  an  effort  in  foreign 
parts  —  for  Kildrummie  was  exceptionally  strong  at  the 
Junction  —  but  it  waited  at  the  terminus  till  the  outer 
world  had  gone  up  the  road.  Then  their  own  folk  took 
the  two  in  hand,  and  these  were  the  guard  of  honour 
who  escorted  the  Minister  and  the  General  to  where  our 
Kate  was  waiting  with  the  dog-cart,  each  carrying  some 
morsel  of  luggage  —  Drumsheugh,  Burnbrae,  Hillocks, 
Netherton,  Jamie  Soutar,  and  Archie  Moncur.  Kate 
drove  gloriously  through  Kildrummie  as  if  they  had  come 
from  a  triumph,  and  let  it  be  said  to  the  credit  of  that 
despised  town,  that,  the  news  having  come,  every  hat 
was  lifted,  but  that  which  lasted  till  they  got  home,  and 
till  long  afterwards,  was  the  handshake  of  the  Drumtochty 
men. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

MARGET   HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL. 

HEN  the  General  and  Kate 
were  loitering  over  breakfast 
the  morning  after  the  ovation, 
they  heard  the  sound  of  a 
horse's  feet  on  the  gravel,  and 
Donald  came  in  with  more 
than  his  usual  importance. 

"  It  iss  a  messenger  from  Muir- 
town  Castle,  and  he  iss  waiting  to 
know  whether  there  will  be  any 
answer."  And  Donald  put  one 
letter  before  the  father  and  another 
before  the  daughter,  both  showing 
the  Hay  crest.  Kate's  face  whitened 
as  she  recognised  the  handwriting 
on  her  envelope,  and  she  went  over 
to  the  window  seat  of  a  turret  in  the  corner  of  the  room, 
while  the  General  opened  his  letter,  standing  on  a  tiger- 
skin,  with  his  back  to  the  fireplace  in  the  great  hall. 
This  is  what  he  read  : 

MY  DEAR  CARNEGIE,  —  When  men  have  fought  together 
in  the  trenches  before  Sebastopol,  as  their  ancestors  have 
ridden  side  by  side  with  Prince  Charlie,  I  hope  you  will  agree 
with  me  they  need  not  stand  on  ceremony.  If  I  seem  guilty 


330  KATE  CARNEGIE. 

of  any  indiscretion  in  what  I  am  going  to  say,  then  you  will 
pardon  me  for  "Auld  Lang  Syne." 

You  have  one  daughter  and  I  have  one  son,  and  so  I  do 
not  need  to  tell  you  that  he  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  that  I 
have  often  thought  of  his  marriage,  on  which  not  only  his 
own  happiness  so  much  depends,  but  also  the  future  of  our 
house  and  name.  Very  likely  you  have  had  some  such 
thoughts  about  Kate,  with  this  difference,  that  you  would 
rather  keep  so  winsome  a  girl  with  you,  while  I  want  even 
so  good  a  son  as  Hay  to  be  married  whenever  he  can  meet 
with  one  whom  he  loves,  and  who  is  worthy  of  him. 

Hay  never  gave  me  an  hour's  anxiety,  and  has  no  entan- 
glements of  any  kind,  but  on  the  subject  of  marriage  I  could 
make  no  impression.  "Time  enough,"  he  would  say,  or 
"The  other  person  has  not  turned  up,"  and  I  was  getting 
uneasy,  for  you  and  I  are  not  so  young  as  once  we  were. 
You  may  fancy  my  satisfaction,  therefore,  when  George 
came  down  from  Drumtochty  last  August  and  told  me  he 
had  found  the  "  other  person,"  and  that  she  was  my  old 
friend  Jack  Carnegie's  daughter.  Of  course  I  urged  him  to 
make  sure  of  himself,  but  now  he  has  had  ample  opportuni- 
ties during  your  two  visits,  and  he  is  quite  determined  that 
his  wife  is  to  be  Kate  or  nobody. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  Countess  and  1  heartily 
approve  Hay's  choice  and  are  charmed  with  Kate,  who  is  as 
bonnie  as  she  is  high-spirited.  She  sustains  the  old  tradi- 
tions of  her  family,  who  were  ever  strong  and  true,  and  she 
has  a  clever  tongue,  which  neither  you  nor  I  have,  Jack,  nor 
Hay  either,  good  fellow  though  he  be,  and  that  is  not  a  bad 
thing  for  a  woman  nowadays.  They  would  make  a  handsome 
pair,  as  they  ought,  with  such  good-looking  fathers,  eh? 

Well,  I  am  coming  to  my  point,  for  in  those  circumstances 
I  want  your  help.  What  Miss  Carnegie  thinks  of  Hay  we 
don't  know,  and  unless  I  'm  much  mistaken  she  will  decide 
for  herself,  but  is  it  too  much  to  ask  you  —  if  you  can  -  to 
say  a  word  for  him  ?  You  are  quite  right  to  think  that  no 
man  is  worthy  of  Kate,  but  she  is  bound  to  marry  some 
day — I  can't  conceive  how  you  have  kept  her  so  long  — 


MARGET    HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.      331 

and  I  am  certain  Hay  will  make  a  good  husband,  and  he  is 
simply  devoted  to  her.  If  she  refuses  him,  I  am  afraid  he 
will  not  marry,  and  then  —  well,  grant  I'm  selfish,  but  it 
would  be  a  calamity  to  us. 

Don't  you  think  that  it  looks  like  an  arrangement  of 
Providence  to  unite  two  families  that  have  shared  common 
dangers  and  common  faith  in  the  past,  and  to  establish  a 
Carnegie  once  more  as  lady  of  Drumtochty  ?  Now  that  is 
all,  and  it 's  a  long  screed,  but  the  matter  lies  near  my  heart, 
and  we  shall  wait  the  answers  from  you  both  with  anxiety. 
Yours  faithfully, 

KlLSPINDIE. 

Kate's  letter  was  much  shorter,  and  was  written  in  big 
schoolboy  hand  with  great  care. 

DEAR  Miss  CARNEGIE,  —  They  say  that  a  woman  always 
knows  when  a  man  loves  her,  and  if  so  you  will  not  be  aston- 
ished at  this  letter.  From  that  day  I  saw  you  in  Drumtochty 
Kirk  I  have  loved  you,  and  every  week  I  love  you  more. 
My  mother  is  the  only  other  woman  I  have  ever  cared  for, 
and  that  is  different.  Will  you  be  my  wife  ?  I  often  wanted 
to  ask  you  when  you  were  with  us  in  November  and  last 
month,  but  my  heart  failed  me.  Can  you  love  me  a  little, 
enough  to  say  yes?  I  am  not  clever,  and  I  am  afraid  1 
shall  never  do  anything  to  make  you  proud  of  me,  but  you 
will  have  all  my  heart,  and  I  '11  do  my  best  to  make  you 
happy. 

I  am,  vours  very  sincerely, 

HAV. 

Carnegie  could  see  Kate's  face  from  his  place,  who 
was  looking  out  of  the  window  with  a  kindly  expression, 
and  her  father,  who  was  of  a  simple  mind,  and  knew  little 
of  women,  was  encouraged  by  such  visible  friendliness. 
He  was  about  to  go  over,  when  her  face  changed.  She 
dropped  the  letter  on  the  seat,  and  became  very  thought- 


332  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

ful,  knitting  her  brows  and  resting  her  chin  on  her  hand. 
In  a  little,  something  stung  her  —  like  a  person  recalling 
an  injury  —  and  she  flushed  with  anger,  drumming  with 
her  fingers  on  the  sill  of  the  window.  Then  anger  gave 
place  to  sadness,  as  if  she  had  resolved  to  do  something 
that  was  inevitable,  but  less  than  the  best.  Kate  glanc  jd 
in  her  father's  direction,  and  read  Lord  Hay's  let  er 
again ,  then  she  seemed  to  have  made  up  her  mind. 

"  Father,"  as  she  joined  him  on  the  skin  beneath  those 
loyal  Carnegies  on  the  wall,  "  there  is  Lord  Hay's  letter, 
and  he  is  a  .  .  .  worthy  gentleman.  Perhaps  I  did  not 
give  him  so  much  encouragement  as  he  took,  but  that 
does  not  matter.  This  is  a  ...  serious  decision,  and 
ought  not  to  be  made  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 
Will  you  let  the  messenger  go  with  a  note  to  say  that  an 
answer  will  be  sent  on  Monday?  You  might  write  to 
Lord  Kilspindie." 

She  was  still  standing  in  the  place  when  he  returned, 
and  had  been  studying  the  proud,  determined  face  of 
Black  John's  mother,  who  had  not  spared  her  only  son 
for  the  good  cause. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  Carnegie,  dad,  who  married 
beneath  her,  or  ...  loved  one  on  the  other  side  ?  " 

"Never,"  said  her  father.  "Our  women  all  married 
into  loyal  families  of  their  own  rank,  which  is  best  for 
comfort;  but  why  do  you  ask?  Hay  is  a  .  .  ." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  it  was  only  .  .  .  curiosity  made  me 
ask,  and  I  suppose  some  of  our  women  must  have  made 
sacrifices  for  their  .  .  .  cause?" 

"  Far  more  than  the  men  ever  did,  for,  see  you,  a 
man  is  just  shot,  and  all  is  over,  and  before  he  falls  he  's 
had  some  good  fighting,  but  his  wife  suffers  all  her  days, 
when  he  is  living  and  when  he  is  dead.  Yet  our  women 


MARGET   HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.      333 

were  the  first  to  send  their  men  to  the  field.  Heavens  ! 
what  women  do  suffer  —  they  ought  to  have  their 
reward." 

"They  have,"  said  Kate,  with  emphasis,  "if  they  help 
those  whom  they  love.  .  .  .  Father,  would  you  be  quite 
satisfied  with  Lord  Hay  for  a  son-in-law,  and  .  .  .  would 
you  let  us  live  with  you  here  as  much  as  we  could? " 

"  Kate,  if  you  are  to  marry  —  and  I  knew  it  must 
come  some  day  —  I  have  not  seen  a  more  honest  man ; 
but  you  are  forgetting  that  Tochty  Lodge  will  soon  be 
out  of  our  hands ;  I  '11  have  to  get  a  bungalow  some- 
where, not  too  far  away  from  Muirtown,  I  hope." 

"  If  I  marry  Lord  Hay,  Tochty  Lodge  will  not  be 
sold,  and  you  will  never  be  disturbed,  dad.  We  shall 
not  be  separated  more  than  we  can  help,"  and  Kate 
caressed  the  General. 

"Do  you  mean,  lassie,"  said  the  General,  with  a 
sudden  suspicion,  lifting  her  face  till  he  saw  her  eyes, 
"  that  you  are  going  to  accept  Hay  in  order  to  keep  the 
old  home  ?  You  must  not  do  this,  for  it  would  not  .  .  . 
don't  you  see  that  I  ...  could  not  accept  this  at  your 
hands?" 

"  You  cannot  prevent  your  daughter  marrying  Lord 
Hay  if  your  daughter  so  decides,  but  as  yet  she  is  in 
doubt,  very  great  doubt,  and  so  I  am  going  for  a  long 
walk  on  the  big  moor,  and  you  .  .  .  well,  why  not  take 
lunch  with  the  Padre  at  the  manse  ?  " 

"  Hay  is  a  straight  young  fellow,  and  Kate  would 
supply  what  he  wants  —  a  dash  of  go,  you  know  "  — so 
the  General  was  summing  up  the  situation  to  his  old 
friend ;  "  but  my  girl  is  not  to  marry  Hay  or  any  other 
man  for  my  sake,  and  that  is  what  she  thinks  of  doing." 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  Carnegie,  that  Kate  had  a 
.  .  .  well,  kindly  feeling  for  any  other  man?  " 


334  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"  Plenty  of  fellows  tried  their  luck  :  first  subalterns, 
then  aides-de-camp,  and  at  last  commissioners ;  it  was 
no  easy  affair  to  be  her  father,"  and  Carnegie  gave 
Davidson  a  comic  look.  "  I  used  to  scold  her,  but 
upon  my  word  I  don't  know  she  was  to  blame,  and  I  am 
certain  she  did  not  care  for  one  of  them ;  in  fact, 
she  laughed  at  them  all  till  —  well,  in  fact,  I  had  to 
interfere." 

"  And  since  you  came  to  the  Lodge  "  —  the  Doctor 
spoke  with  meaning  —  "  besides  Lord  Hay?" 

"Why,  there  is  just  yourself"  —the  Doctor  nodded 
with  much  appreciation  —  "  and  that  Free  Kirkman. 
.  .  .  Davidson,  do  you  mean  that  —  oh,  nonsense,  man  ; 
she  was  quite  angry  one  day  when  I  suggested  a  parson. 
Kate  has  always  said  that  was  the  last  man  she  would 
marry." 

"  That  is  an  evidence  she  will." 

The  General  stared  at  the  oracle,  and  went  on  : 

"She  has  made  his  life  miserable  at  the  Lodge  with 
her  tongue  ;  she  delighted  in  teasing  him.  Your  idea  is 
quite  absurd." 

"  Carnegie,  did  you  ever  hear  the  classical  couplet  — 

"  Scarting  and  biting 
Mak  Scots  fouk's  'ooing  ;  " 

and  although  I  admit  the  description  applies  in  the  first 

instance  to  milkmaids,  yet  there  is  a  fair  share  of  national 

character  in  the  Carnegies." 

"  Do  you  really  think  that  Kate  is  in  ...  has,  well, 

a,  eh,  tenderness  to  Carmichael?   it  would  never  have 

occurred  to  me." 

"How  would  you  look  on  Carmichael  as  a  suitor?  " 
"  Well,  if  Kate  is  to  marry  —  and  mind  you  I  always 


MARGET   HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.      335 

prepared  myself  for  that  —  I  would  of  course  prefer  Hay, 
not  because  he  is  a  lord,  or  rich,  or  any  snobbery  of  that 
kind  —  you  know  me  better  than  that,  Sandie  —  but 
because  he 's  .  .  .  you  know  .  .  .  belongs  to  our  own 
set. 

"Don't  you  think  there  is  something  in  that?"  and 
the  General  tried  to  explain  his  honest  mind,  in  which 
lived  no  unworthy  or  uncharitable  thought.  "  I  have 
not  one  word  to  say  against  Carmichael ;  he  's  good- 
looking,  and  monstrous  clever,  and  he  has  always  made 
himself  very  agreeable,  very,  and  the  people  swear  by 
him  in  the  Glen ;  but  .  .  .  you  must  understand  what  I 
mean,  Davidson,"  and  the  General  was  in  despair. 

"  You  mean  that  though  he  's  a  first-rate  young  fellow 
for  a  clergyman,  he  does  not  belong  to  your  world  —  has 
a  different  set  of  friends,  has  different  habits  of  living, 
has  a  different  way  of  thinking  and  speaking  —  is,  in 
fact,  an  outsider." 

"  That 's  it  —  just  what  I  was  '  ettling '  after  —  lucky 
fellows  we  Scots  with  such  words,"  and  the  General  was 
immensely  delighted  to  be  delivered  of  his  idea  in  an 
inoffensive  form. 

"  It  is  my  own  belief,  Carnegie  —  and  you  can  laugh 
at  me  afterwards  if  I  be  wrong  —  that  this  will  be  the 
end  of  it,  however.  Yes,  putting  it  plainly,  that  Kate  is 
in  love  with  Carmichael,  as  he  is  certainly  with  her; 
and  you  will  have  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation." 

"  You  don't  like  the  idea  any  more  than  I  do, 
Davidson?" 

"  Speaking  in  perfect  confidence  and  frankness,  I  do 
not.  1  look  at  the  matter  this  way "  —  the  Doctor 
stood  on  the  hearth-rug  in  a  judicial  attitude,  pulling 
down  his  waistcoat  with  his  two  hands,  his  legs  apart, 


336  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

and  his  eye-glass  on  his  nose  —  "  Carmichael  has  been 
brought  up  among  .  .  .  plain,  respectable  people,  and 
theological  books,  and  church  courts,  and  Free  Kirk 
society,  all  of  which  is  excellent,  but  .  .  .  secluded  "- 
the  Doctor  liked  the  word,  which  gave  his  mind  without 
offence  —  "  secluded.  Kate  is  a  Carnegie,  was  educated 
in  France,  has  travelled  in  India,  and  has  lived  in  the 
most  exciting  circumstances.  She  loves  soldiers,  war, 
gaiety,  sport,  besides  many  other  .  .  .  eh,  good  things, 
and  is  a  ...  lovely  girl.  Love  laughs  at  rules,  but  if 
you  ask  me  my  candid  opinion,  the  marriage  would  not 
be  ...  in  fact,  congruous.  If  it  is  to  be,  it  must  be, 
and  God  bless  them  both,  say  I,  and  so  will  everybody 
say;  but  it  will  be  an  experiment,  a  distinct  and  .  .  . 
interesting  experiment." 

"  Kate  is  not  to  marry  any  one  for  my  sake,  to  save 
Tochty,  but  I  do  wish  she  had  fancied  Lord  Hay,"  said 
the  General,  ruefully. 

"  The  Free  Kirk  folk  in  the  depths  of  their  hearts 
consider  me  a  worldly  old  clergyman,  and  perhaps  I  am, 
for,  Jack,  I  would  dearly  like  to  see  our  Kate  Viscountess 
Hay,  and  to  think  that  one  day,  when  we  three  old 
fellows  are  gone,  she  would  be  Countess  of  Kilspindie." 
That  was  the  first  conference  of  the  day  on  Kate's  love 
affairs,  and  this  is  how  it  ended. 

Meanwhile  the  young  woman  herself  had  gone  up  the 
road  to  the  high  Glen  and  made  her  way  over  dykes  and 
through  fields  to  Whinny  Knowe,  which  she  had  often 
visited  since  the  August  Sacrament.  Whinny  came  out 
from  the  kitchen  door  in  corduroy  trousers,  much  stained 
with  soil,  and  grey  shirt  —  wiping  his  mouth  with  the 
back  of  his  hand  after  a  hearty  dinner  —  a.nd  went  to 
the  barn  for  his  midday  sleep  before  he  went  again 


MARGET   HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.      337 

to  the  sowing.  Marget  met  her  at  the  garden  gate, 
dressed  in  her  week-day  clothes  and  fresh  from  a  morn- 
ing's churning,  but  ever  refined  and  spiritual,  as  one 
whose  soul  is  shining*  through  the  veil  of  common 
circumstances. 

"  It 's  a  benison  tae  see  ye  on  this  bricht  day,  Miss 
Carnegie,  an'  ye  '11  come  tae  the  garden-seat,  for  the 
spring  flooers  are  bloomin'  bonnie  and  sweet  the  noo, 
an'  fillin'  's  a'  wi'  hope. 

"  Gin  there  be  ony  sun  shinin',''  as  she  spread  a  plaid, 
"  the  heat  fa's  here,  an'  save  when  the  snow  is  heavy 
on  the  Glen,  there  's  aye  some  blossoms  here  tae  mind 
us  o'  oor  Father's  love  an'  the  world  that  isna  seen." 

"  Marget,"  began  Kate,  not  with  a  blush,  but  rather 
a  richening  of  colour,  "  you  have  been  awfully  good  to 
me,  and  have  helped  me  in  lots  of  ways,  far  more  than 
you  could  dream  of.  Do  you  know  you  've  made  me 
almost  good  at  times,  with  just  enough  badness  to  keep 
me  still  myself,  as  when  I  flounced  out  from  the  Free 
Kirk." 

Marget  only  smiled  deprecation  and  affection,  for  her 
heart  went  out  to  this  motherless,  undisciplined  girl, 
whom  she  respected,  like  a  true  Scot,  because,  although 
Kate  had  made  her  a  friend,  she  was  still  a  Carnegie ; 
whom  she  loved,  because,  although  Kate  might  be  very 
provoking,  she  was  honest  to  the  core. 

"To-day,"  Kate  resumed,  after  a  pause,  and  speak- 
ing with  an  unusual  nervousness,  "  I  want  your  advice  on 
a  serious  matter,  which  I  must  decide,  and  which  .  .  . 
concerns  other  people  as  well  as  myself.  In  fact,  I 
would  like  to  ask  a  question,"  and  she  paused  to  frame 
her  case. 

It  was  a  just  testimony  to  Marget  Howe  that  Kate 


"YOU    HAVE    BEEN   AWFULLY    GOOD   TO    ME. 


MARGET    HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.      339 

never  thought  of  pledging  her  to  secrecy,  for  there  are 
people  whom  to  suspect  of  dishonour  is  a  sin. 

"  Suppose  that  a  man  .  .  .  loved  a  woman,  and  that 
he  was  honourable,  brave,  gentle,  true,  in  fact  ...  a 
gentleman,  and  made  her  a  proposal  of  marriage." 

Marget  was  looking  before  her  with  calm,  attentive 
face,  never  once  glancing  at  Kate  to  supplement  what 
was  told. 

"If  .  .  .  the  girl  accepted  him,  she  would  have  a 
high  position,  and  be  rich,  so  that  she  could  .  .  .  save 
her  .  .  .  family  from  ruin,  and  keep  .  .  .  them  in  the 
house  they  loved." 

Marget  listened  with  earnest  intelligence. 

"  She  respects  this  man,  and  is  grateful  to  him.  She 
is  certain  that  he  would  be  ...  kind  to  her,  and  give 
her  everything  she  wanted.  And  she  thinks  that  he 
.  .  .  would  be  happy." 

Marget  waited  for  the  end. 

"  But  she  does  not  love  him  —  that  is  all." 

As  the  tale  was  being  told  in  brief,  clear,  slow  sen- 
tences, Marget's  eyes  became  luminous,  and  her  lips 
opened  as  one  ready  to  speak  from  an  inner  knowledge. 

"  Ye  hev  let  me  see  a  piece  o'  life,  an'  it  is  sacred, 
for  naethin'  on  earth  is  sae  near  God  as  luve,  an'  a '11 
no  deny  that  ma  woman's  heart  is  wi'  that  honest  gentle- 
man, an'  a'  the  mair  gin  he  dinna  win  his  prize. 

"  But  a  man  often  comes  tae  his  heicht  through  dis- 
appointment, and  a  woman,  she  hes  tae  learn  that  there 
is  that  which  she  hes  the  richt  tae  give  for  gratitude  or 
friendship's  sake,  and  that  which  can  only  be  bestowed 
by  the  hand  o'  luve. 

"  It  will  maybe  help  ye  gin  a'  tell  ye  anither  tale,  an' 
though  it  be  o'  humble  life,  yet  oor  hearts  are  the  same 


340  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

in  the  castle  and  the  cottar's  hoose,  \vi'  the  same  cup  o' 
sorrow  tae  drink  an'  the  same  croon  o'  joy  tae  wear,  an' 
the  same  dividin'  o'  roads  for  oor  trial. 

"  There  wes  a  man  showed  a  wumman  muckle  kind- 
ness, and  to  her  fouk  also,  an'  he  wes  simple  an'  honest, 
an'  for  what  he  hed  done  an'  because  there  wes  nae  evil 
in  him  she  married  him." 

"And  what  has  happened?"  Kate,  being  half  High- 
land, had  less  patience  than  Marget. 

"  He  hes  been  a  gude  man  tae  her  through  the  dark 
an'  through  the  licht,  an'  she  hes  tried  tae  repay  him  as 
a  puir  imperfect  wumman  can,  an'  her  hert  is  warm  to 
him,  but  there  hes  aye  been  ae  thing  wantin'  —  an'  it 
hes  been  that  wife's  cross  a'  her  life  —  there  wes  nae 
Hher  man,  but  her  husband  wesna,  isna,  canna  be  her 
ain  a"  thegither  an'  for  ever  —  for  the  want  o'  luve  — 
that  luve  o'  luve  that  maks  marriage." 

Her  voice  was  laden  with  feeling,  and  it  was  plain 
that  she  had  given  of  her  own  and  deepest  for  the  guid- 
ing of  another. 

"  Marget,  I  can  never  be  grateful  enough  to  you  for 
what  you  have  shown  me  this  day."  As  she  passed 
Whinny  with  his  bag  of  seed,  he  apologised  for  his  wife. 

"  A  'm  dootin',  Miss  Carnegie,  the  gude-wife  hes 
keepit  ye  ower  lang  in  the  gairden  haiverin'  awa'  aboot 
the  flooers  an'  her  ither  trokes.  But  she  's  michty  prood 
for  a'  that  aboot  yir  comin'  up  tae  veesit  us." 

Such  was  the  second  conference  on  Kale's  affairs  on 
that  day. 

No  place  could  be  more  thoroughly  cleansed  from 
vulgar  curiosity  than  our  Glen,  or  have  a  finer  con- 
tempt for  "  clatters,"  but  the  atmosphere  was  electrical 
in  the  diffusion  of  information.  What  happened  at  Burn- 


MARGET   HOWE'S  CONFESSIONAL.      341 

brae  was  known  at  the  foot  of  Glen  Urtach  by  evening, 
and  the  visit  of  spiritual  consolation  which  Milton,  in  the 
days  of  his  Pharisaism,  paid  to  Jamie  Soutar  on  his  death- 
bed was  the  joy  of  every  fireside  in  Drumtochty  within 
twenty-four  hours.  Perhaps  it  was  not,  therefore,  re- 
markable that  the  arrival  of  Lord  Kilspindie's  groom  at 
Tochty  Lodge  post  haste  with  two  letters  on  Saturday 
morning — one  for  the  General  from  his  Lordship,  and  one 
from  his  son  for  Miss  Kate  —  should  have  been  rightly 
interpreted,  and  the  news  spread  with  such  rapidity  that 
Hillocks  —  a  man  not  distinguished  above  his  fellows 
for  tact  —  was  able  to  inform  Carmichael  in  the  early 
afternoon  that  the  marriage  between  the  young  lord  and 
the  "  Miss  "  at  Tochty  was  now  practically  arranged. 

"  It 's  been  aff  and  on  a"  winter,  an'  the  second  veesit 
tae  the  Castle  settled  it,  but  a  'm  hearin'  it  wes  the  loss 
o'  the  Lodge  brocht  the  fast  offer  this  mornin'.  She  's 
an  able  wumman,  an'  cairried  her  gear  tae  the  best  mar- 
ket. Ma  certes,"  and  Hillocks  contemplated  Kate's 
achievement  with  sympathetic  admiration,  "  but  she  '11 
set  her  place  weel,  an'  haud  her  ain  wi'  the  Duchess 
o'  Athole." 

Carmichael  ought  perhaps  to  have  taken  his  beating 
like  a  man,  and  said  nothing  to  any  one,  but  instead 
thereof  he  betook  himself  for  consolation  to  Marget, 
a  better  counsellor  in  a  crisis  than  Janet,  with  all  her 
Celtic  wiles,  and  Marget  set  him  in  the  very  seat  where 
Kate  had  put  her  case. 

"  It  has,  I  suppose,  been  all  a  dream,  and  now  I  have 
awaked,  but  it  was  ...  a  pleasant  dream,  and  one 
finds  the  morning  light  a  little  chill.  One  must  just 
learn  to  forget,  and  be  as  if  one  had  never  .  .  . 
dreamed,"  but  Carmichael  looked  at  Marget  wistfully. 


342  KATE    CARNEGIE. 

"  Ye  canna  be  the  same  again,  for  a'  coont,  gin  ony 
man  loves  a  wumman  wi'  a  leal  hert,  whether  she  answer 
or  no,  or  whether  she  even  kens,  he  "s  been  the  gainer, 
an'  the  harvest  will  be  his  for  ever. 

"  It  hes  seemed  to  me  that  nae  luve  is  proved  an' 
crooned  for  eternity  onless  the  man  hes  forgotten  himsel' 
an'  is  willin'  tae  live  alane  gin  the  wumman  he  hives  sees 
prosperity.  He  only  is  the  perfect  lover,  and  for  him 
God  hes  the  best  gifts. 

"Yes,  a've  seen  it  wi' ma  ain  eyes,"-— for  indeed 
this  seemed  to  Carmichael  an  impossible  height  of  self- 
abnegation,  —  "a  man  who  loved  an'  served  a  wumman 
wi'  his  best  an'  at  a  great  cost,  an'  yet  for  whom  there 
cud  be  no  reward  but  his  ain  luve."  Marget's  face  grew 
so  beautiful  as  she  told  of  the  constancy  of  this  unknown, 
unrewarded  lover  that  Carmichael  left  without  further 
speech,  but  with  a  purer  vision  of  love  than  had  ever 
before  visited  his  soul.  Marget  watched  him  go  down 
the  same  path  by  which  Kate  went,  and  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  Whether  or  no  he  win  is  in  the  will  of  God. 
but  already  luve  hes  given  his  blessin'  tae  man  and 
maid." 

Kate  did  not  go  to  kirk  on  Sunday,  but  lived  all  day 
in  the  woods,  and  in  the  evening  she  kissed  her  father 
and  laid  this  answer  in  his  hands :  — 

DEAR  LORD  HAY, — You  have  done  me  the  greatest 
honour  any  woman  can  receive  at  your  hands,  and  for  two 
days  I  have  thought  of  nothing  else.  If  it  were  enough  that 
your  wife  should  like  and  respect  you.  then  I  would  at  once 
accept  you  as  my  betrothed,  but  as  it  is  plain  to  me  that  no 
woman  ought  to  marry  any  one  unless  she  also  loves  him, 
I  am  obliged  to  refuse  one  of  the  truest  men  I  have  ever 
met,  for  whom  I  have  a  very  kindly  place  in  my  heart,  and 


MARGET   HOWE'S   CONFESSIONAL.       343 

whose  happiness  I  shall  always  desire.  —  Believe  me,  yours 
sincerely, 

KATE  CARNEGIE. 

"  You  could  do  nothing  else,  Kit,  and  you  have  done 
right  to  close  the  matter  .  .  .  but  I  'm  sorry  for  Hay." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


LOVE   IS   LORD. 

T  could  not  be  said  with  a  steady  face 
that  the  proceedings  of  the  Free  Kirk 
Presbytery  of  Muirtown  increased  the 
gaiety  of  nations,  and  there  might  be 
persons  —  far  left  to  themselves,  of 
course  —  who  would  describe  its  mem- 
bers as  wearisome  ecclesiastics.  Carmichael 
himself,  in  a  mood  of  gay  irresponsibility, 
had  once  sketched  a  meeting  of  this  rever- 
end court,  in  which  the  names  were  skilfully 
adapted,  after  the  ancient  fashion,  to  repre- 
sent character,  and  the  incidents,  if  not  vero, 
were  certainly  ben  trovato,  and  had  the  arti- 
cle ready  for  transmission  to  Ferrier's  Jour- 
nal. ( A  Sederunt '  did  not,  however,  add  to 
the  miseries  of  a  most  courteous  editor,  for 
Jenkins,  having  come  up  for  an  all-night  conference,  and 
having  heard  the  article  with  unfeigned  delight,  pointed 
out  that,  if  it  were  accepted,  which  Carmichael's  experi- 
ence did  not  certify,  the  writer  would  be  run  down  within 
fourteen  days,  and  that,  so  unreasonable  a  thing  is  human 
nature,  some  of  the  Presbytery  might  be  less  than  pleased 
with  their  own  likenesses.  "  It 's  in  the  waste-paper 
basket,"  Carmichael  said  next  morning,  which,  as  the 
author  was  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  not  conspicu- 


LOVE   IS   LORD.  345 

ously  modest,  is  a  conclusive  testimonial  to  the  goodness 
of  one  Presbytery,  and  its  hold  on  the  affection  of  its 
members. 

Scots  take  their  pleasures  sadly,  and  no  one  can 
imagine  from  what  arid  soil  they  may  not  draw  their 
nutriment,  but  it  was  not  for  motions  of  ponderous  am- 
biguity and  pragmatical  points  of  order,  that  the  minister 
of  Kincairney  rose  before  daybreak  on  a  winter's  morn- 
ing, and  worked  his  way  to  the  nearest  station,  with  the 
stars  still  overhead,  and  the  snow  below  his  feet,  so  that 
when  the  clerk  made  a  sign  to  the  Moderator  punctually 
at  one  minute  past  eleven  to  "  constitute  the  Presbytery," 
he  might  not  be  missing  from  his  place.  It  was  the 
longing  of  a  lonely  man,  across  whose  front  door  no 
visitor  had  come  for  weeks,  for  friendly  company ;  of  a 
weary  minister,  discouraged  by  narrow  circumstances, 
monotonous  routine,  unexpected  disappointments  among 
his  people,  for  a  word  of  good  cheer.  A  cynical  stranger 
might  discover  various  stupidities,  peculiarities,  provin- 
cialisms in  the  Presbytery  —  he  knew  himself  who  had 
a  temper,  and  who  was  a  trifle  sensitive  about  his  rights 

—  but    this    middle-aged,    hard-working,    simple-living 
man  saw  twenty  faithful  brethren  —  the  elders  did  not 
count  in  this  connection,  for  they  did  not  understand  — 
who  stood  beside  him  on  occasion  at  the  Holy  Table, 
and  gave  him  advice  in  his  perplexities,  and  would  bury 
him  with  honest  regret  when  he  died,  and  fight  like 
wild  cats  that  his  widow  and  children  should  have  their 
due.     His  toilsome  journey  was  forgotten  when  Doctor 
Dowbiggin,  in  an  interstice  of  motions,  came  across  the 
floor  and  sat  down  beside  him,  and  whispered  confiden- 
tially, "Well,  how  are  things  going  on  at  Kincairney?" 

—  Dowbiggin  really  deserved  his  leadership  —  or  when 


346  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

the  clerk,  suddenly  wheeling  round  in  his  seat,  would 
pass  his  snuff-box  across  to  him  without  a  word,  for  the 
clerk  had  a  way  of  handing  his  box,  which,  being  inter- 
preted, ran  as  follows  :  —  "  You  suppose  that  I  am  lifted 
above  all  ordinary  affairs  in  my  clerkly  isolation,  and  that 
I  do  not  know  what  a  solid  work  you  are  doing  for  God 
and  man  in  the  obscure  parish  of  Kincairney,  but  you 
are  wrong.  You  have  a  very  warm  corner  in  my  mem- 
ory, and  in  sign  thereof  accept  my  box."  And  the  said 
minister,  trudging  home  that  evening,  and  being  met  at 
a  certain  turn  of  the  road  by  his  wife  —  sentimental  at 
fifty,  you  see,  after  a  quarter  of  a  century's  toiling  and 
preaching  —  would  enlarge  on  Doctor  Dowbiggin's  cor- 
diality, and  the  marked  courtesy  of  the  clerk,  and  when 
they  were  alone  in  the  manse,  his  wife  would  kiss  him  — 
incredible  to  our  cynic  —  and  say,  "You  see,  Tom,  more 
people  than  I  know  what  a  good  work  you  are  doing," 
and  Tom  would  start  his  twenty- first  lecture  on  the 
Ephesians  next  morning  with  new  spirit.  Such  is  the 
power  of  comradeship,  such  is  the  thirst  for  sympathy; 
and  indeed  there  is  no  dog  either  so  big  or  so  little  that 
it  does  not  appreciate  a  pat,  and  go  down  the  street 
afterwards  with  better  heart. 

The  Presbytery  had  always  a  tender  regard  for  the 
Eree  Kirk  of  Drumtochty,  and  happened  to  treat  Car- 
michael  with  much  favour.  When  the  "  call  "  to  him  was 
signed  at  once  by  every  member  of  the  congregation, 
the  clerk  —  who  had  been  obliged  to  summon  Donald 
Menzies  from  Gaelic  by  the  intimation  that  Drumtochty 
was  by  the  law  of  the  Church  "  uni-  lingual,  and  that  all 
proceedings  must  be  conducted  in  the  English  language  " 
—  arose  and  declared  that  "  such  unanimous  attention  to 
their  ecclesiastical  duties  was  unexampled  in  his  expe- 


LOVE    IS   LORD.  347 

Hence ;  "  and  when  at  CarmichaeFs  ordination  a  certain 
certificate  was  wanting,  the  clerk,  whose  intervention 
was  regarded  with  awe,  proposed  that  the  court  should 
anticipate  its  arrival,  dealing  with  the  matter  "prolepti- 
cally,"  and  the  court  saw  in  the  very  word  another  proof 
of  the  clerk's  masterly  official  genius.  It  was  he  also  — 
expressing  the  mind  of  the  Presbytery  —  who  proposed 
that  the  Court  should  send  Carmichael  as  a  commis- 
sioner to  the  General  Assembly  in  the  first  year  of  his 
ministry,  and  took  occasion  to  remark  that  Mr.  Carmi- 
chael, according  to  "  reliable  information  at  his  disposal," 
was  rendering  important  service  to  the  Free  Church  in 
his  sphere  at  Drumtochty.  Carmichael  was  very  happy 
in  those  days,  and  was  so  petted  by  his  ecclesiastical 
superiors  that  he  never  missed  a  meeting  of  court,  where 
he  either  sat  in  a  demure  silence,  which  commended 
him  greatly  to  the  old  men,  or  conversed  with  his  friends 
on  a  back  bench  about  general  affairs. 

It  gave  him,  therefore,  a  shock  to  sit  with  his  brethren 
in  the  month  of  June  —  when  the  walk  through  the 
woods  had  been  a  joy,  and  Muirtown  lay  at  her  fairest, 
and  the  sunshine  filled  the  court-room,  and  every  man 
had  a  summer  air,  and  Doctor  Dowbiggin  actually  wore 
a  rose  in  his  coat  —  and  to  discover  that  he  himself  was 
sick  of  his  old  friends,  of  his  work,  of  his  people,  of  him- 
self. The  reasons  were  obvious.  Was  it  not  a  sin  that 
thirty  Christian  men  should  be  cooped  up  in  a  room 
passing  schedules  when  the  summer  was  young  and  fresh 
upon  the  land?  Could  any  one  of  the  Rabbi's  boys  sit  in 
that  room  and  see  his  accustomed  place  —  a  corner  next 
the  wall  on  a  back  seat  —  empty,  and  not  be  cast  down  ? 
Besides,  does  not  a  minister's  year  begin  in  September 
and  end  in  July,  and  before  it  closes  is  not  the  minister 


348  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

at  his  lowest,  having  given  away  himself  for  eleven 
months?  "  One  begins  to  weary  for  a  rest,"  he  whispered 
to  Kincairney,  and  that  worthy  man  explained  that  he 
and  his  wife  had  been  planning  their  triennial  holiday, 
and  hoped  to  have  a  fortnight  in  Carnoustte.  Carmichael 
realised  his  hypocrisy  in  that  instant,  for  he  knew  per- 
fectly that  he  had  lost  touch  with  life  because  of  a  hope- 
less love,  and  a  proud  face  he  had  not  seen  a  year  ago. 
He  flung  himself  out  of  the  court  with  such  impatience 
that  the  clerk  stayed  his  hand  in  the  midst  of  the  sacred 
words  pro  re  nata,  and  Kincairney  mentioned  to  his  wife 
in  the  evening  that  Carmichael  had  never  got  over  Doctor 
Saunderson's  death. 

Carmichael  wandered  up  one  of  the  meadows  which 
are  the  glory  of  Muirtown,  and  sat  down  by  the  queen  of 
Scottish  rivers,  which  runs  deep  and  swift,  clean  and 
bright,  from  Loch  Tay  to  the  sea,  between  wooded  banks 
and  overhanging  trees,  past  cornfields  and  ancient  castles ; 
a  river  for  him  who  swims,  or  rows,  or  fishes,  or  dreams, 
in  which,  if  such  were  to  be  his  fate,  a  man  might  ask  to 
be  drowned.  Opposite  him  began  the  woods  of  Muir- 
town Castle,  and  he  tried  to  be  glad  that  Kate  .  .  .  Miss 
Carnegie  would  one  day  be  their  mistress :  the  formal 
announcement  of  her  engagement,  he  had  heard,  was  to 
be  made  next  week,  on  Lord  Kilspindie's  birthday.  A 
distant  whistle  came  on  the  clear  air  from  Muirtown 
station,  where  .  .  .  and  all  this  turmoil  of  hope  and  fear, 
love  and  despair,  had  been  packed  into  a  few  months. 
There  is  a  bend  in  the  river  where  he  sits,  and  the  salmon 
fishers  have  dropped  their  nets,  and  are  now  dragging 
them  to  the  bank.  With  a  thrill  of  sympathy  Carmichael 
watched  the  fish  struggling  in  the  meshes,  and  his  heart 
leapt  when,  through  some  mishandling,  one  escaped  with 


LOVE   IS   LORD.  349 

a  flash  of  silver  and  plunged  into  the  river.  He  had  also 
been  caught  quite  suddenly  in  the  joyous  current  of  his 
life  and  held  in  bonds.  Why  should  he  not  make  a  bold 
plunge  for  freedom,  which  he  could  never  have  with  the 
Lodge  at  his  doors,  with  the  Castle  only  twelve  miles 
away  ?  He  had  been  asked  in  his  student  days  to  go  to 
the  north-west  of  Canada  and  take  charge  of  a  parish 
fifty  miles  square.  The  idea  had  for  a  little  fired  his 
imagination,  and  then  faded  before  other  ambitions.  It 
revived  with  power  on  the  banks  of  that  joyful,  forceful 
river,  and  he  saw  himself  beginning  life  again  on  the 
open  prairie  lands  —  riding,  camping,  shooting,  preach- 
ing—  a  free  man  and  an  apostle  to  the  Scottish  Dis- 
persion. 

With  this  bracing  resolution,  that  seemed  a  call  of  God 
to  deliver  him  from  bondage,  came  a  longing  to  visit  Kil- 
bogie  Manse  and  the  Rabbi's  grave.  It  was  a  journey  of 
expiation,  for  Carmichael  followed  the  road  the  Rabbi 
walked  with  the  hand  of  death  upon  him  after  that  lament- 
able Presbytery,  and  he  marked  the  hills  where  the  old 
man  must  have  stood  and  fought  for  breath.  He  could  see 
Mains,  where  he  had  gone  with  Doctor  Saunderson  to  the 
exposition,  and  he  passed  the  spot  where  the  Rabbi  had 
taken  farewell  of  George  Pitillo  in  a  figure.  What  learning, 
and  simplicity,  and  unselfishness,  and  honesty,  and  affec- 
tion were  mingled  in  the  character  of  the  Rabbi !  What 
skill,  and  courage,  and  tenderness,  and  self-sacrifice,  and 
humility  there  had  been  also  in  William  MacLure,  who 
had  just  died  !  Carmichael  dwelt  on  the  likeness  and 
unlikeness  of  the  two  men,  who  had  each  loved  the 
highest  he  knew  and  served  his  generation  according  to 
the  will  of  God,  till  he  found  himself  again  with  the 
Drumtochty  doctor  on  his  heroic  journeys,  with  the  Rabbi 


350  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

in  his  long  vigils.  It  was  a  singular  means  of  grace  to 
have  known  two  such  men  in  the  flesh,  when  he  was  still 
young  and  impressionable.  A  spiritual  emotion  pos- 
sessed Carmichael.  He  lifted  his  heart  to  the  Eternal, 
and  prayed  that  if  on  account  of  any  hardship  he  shrank 
from  duty  he  might  remember  MacLure,  and  if  in  any 
intellectual  strait  he  was  tempted  to  palter  with  truth 
he  might  see  the  Rabbi  pursuing  his  solitary  way.  The 
district  was  full  of  the  Rabbi,  who  could  not  have  gone 
for  ever,  who  might  appear  any  moment  —  buried  in  a 
book  and  proceeding  steadily  in  the  wrong  direction. 
The  Rabbi  surely  was  not  dead,  and  Carmichael  drifted 
into  that  dear  world  of  romance  where  what  we  desire 
comes  to  pass,  and  facts  count  for  nothing.  This  was 
how  the  Idyll  went.  From  the  moment  of  the  reconcilia- 
tion the  Rabbi's  disease  began  to  abate  in  a  quite  unheard 
of  fashion  — love  wrought  a  miracle  —  and  with  Kate's 
nursing  and  his  he  speedily  recovered.  Things  came 
right  between  Kate  and  himself  as  they  shared  their  task 
of  love,  and  so  ...  of  course  —  it  took  place  last 
month. —  and  now  he  was  going  to  carry  off  the  Rabbi, 
who  somehow  had  not  come  to  the  Presbytery,  to  Drum- 
tochty,  where  his  bride  would  meet  them  both  beneath 
the  laburnum  arch  at  the  gate.  He  would  be  cunning  as 
he  approached  the  door  of  Kilbogie  Manse,  and  walk  on 
the  grass  border  lest  the  Rabbi,  poring  over  some  Father, 
should  hear  the  crunch  of  the  gravel  —  he  did  know  his 
footstep  —  and  so  he  would  take  the  old  man  by  sur- 
prise. Alas  !  he  need  not  take  such  care,  for  the  walk 
was  now  as  the  border  with  grass,  and  the  gate  was  lying 
open,  and  the  dead  house  stared  at  him  with  open,  un- 
conscious eyes,  and  knew  him  not.  The  key  was  in  the 
door,  and  he  crossed  the  threshold  once  more  —  no  need 


LOVE    IS    LORD.  35  x 

to  beware  of  parcels  on  the  floor  now  —  and  turned 
to  the  familiar  room.  The  shelves  had  been  taken  down, 
but  he  could  trace  their  lines  on  the  ancient  discoloured 
paper  that  was  now  revealed  for  the  first  time ;  there, 
where  a  new  shutter  was  resting  against  the  wall,  used  to 
stand  the  "  seat  of  the  fathers,"  and  exactly  in  the  midst 
of  that  heap  of  straw  the  Rabbi  had  his  chair.  .  .  . 

"  Ye  've  come  tae  see  hoo  we  're  getting  on  wi'  the 
repairs"  —  it  was  the  joiner  of  Kilbogie  ;  "it's  no  a 
licht  job,  for  there  's  nae  doot  the  hoose  hes  been  awfu' 
negleckit.  The  Doctor  wes  a  terrible  scholar,  but  he 
wudna  hae  kent  that  the  slates  were  aff  the  roof  till  the 
drap  cam  intae  his  bed. 

"  Ou  aye,  the  manse  is  tae  be  papered  an'  pented  for 
the  new  minister ;  a'  cud  show  ye  the  papers  ;  juist  as 
ye  please  ;  they  're  verra  tasty  an'  showy.  He  's  tae  be 
married  at  once,  a  'm  hearin',  an'  this  is  tae  be  the 
drawin'-room  ;  he  wes  here  ten  days  syne  —  the  day  after 
he  wes  eleckit :  they  're  aye  in  a  hurry  when  they  're  en- 
gaged —  an'  seleckit  a  sma'  room  upstairs  for  his  study ; 
he  didna  think  he  wud  need  as  lairge  a  room  for  bukes, 
an'  he  thocht  the  auld  study  wud  dae  fine  for  pairties. 

"  There  's  juist  ae  room  feenished,  an'  ye  micht  like 
tae  see  the  paper  on  't ;  it 's  a  yellow  rose  on  a  licht 
blue  grund ;  a 'm  jidgin'  it  wes  the  Doctor's  ain  room. 
Weel,  it 's  a  gude  lang  wy  tae  Drumtochty,  an'  ye  '11  no 
be  wantin'  tae  pit  aff  time,  a'  daresay." 

It  was  a  terrible  douche  of  prose,  and  Carmichael  was 
still  shivering  when  he  reached  the  kindly  shade  of 
Tochty  woods.  He  had  seen  the  successful  candidate  at 
the  Presbytery  arranging  about  his  "  trial  discourses  " 
with  the  clerk  —  who  regarded  him  dubiously  —  and  he 
had  heard  some  story  about  his  being  a  "  popular 


352  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

hand,"  and  bewitching  the  young  people  with  a  sermon 
on  the  "  good  fight,"  with  four  heads  "  the  soldier," 
"the  battle-field,"  "  the  battle,"  and  "the  crown  "- 
each  with  an  illustration,  an  anecdote,  and  a  verse  of 
poetry.  Carmichael  recognised  the  type,  and  already 
saw  the  new  minister  of  Kilbogie,  smug  and  self-satisfied, 
handing  round  cream  and  sugar  in  the  Rabbi's  old  study, 
while  his  wife,  a  stout  young  woman  in  gay  clothing, 
pours  tea  from  a  pot  of  florid  design,  and  bearing  a 
blazing  marriage  inscription.  There  would  be  a  soiree 
in  the  kirk,  where  the  Rabbi  had  opened  the  mysteries 
of  God,  and  his  successor  would  explain  how  unworthy 
he  felt  to  follow  Doctor  Saunderson,  and  how  he  was 
going  to  reorganise  the  congregation,  and  there  would 
be  many  jocose  allusions  to  his  coming  marriage ;  but 
Carmichael  would  by  that  time  have  left  the  district. 

No  one  can  walk  a  mile  in  Tochty  woods,  where  there 
are  little  glades  of  mossy  turf,  and  banks  of  violets  and 
geraniums,  and  gentle  creatures  on  ground  and  branch, 
and  cool  shade  from  the  summer  sun,  and  the  sound  of 
running  water  by  your  side,  without  being  sweetened  and 
comforted.  Bitter  thoughts  and  cynical  criticisms,  as 
well  as  vain  regrets  and  peevish  complaints,  fell  away 
from  Carmichael's  soul,  and  gave  place  to  a  gentle 
melancholy.  He  came  to  the  heart  of  the  wood,  where 
was  the  lovers'  grave,  and  the  place  seemed  to  invite  his 
company.  A  sense  of  the  tears  of  things  came  over  him, 
and  he  sat  down  by  the  river-side  to  meditate.  It  was 
two  hundred  years  and  more  since  the  lassies  died,  who 
were  never  wedded,  and  for  him  there  was  not  even  to  be 
love.  The  ages  were  linked  together  by  a  long  tragedy 
of  disappointment  and  vanity,  but  the  Tochty  ran  now  as 
in  the  former  days.  What  was  any  human  life  but  a  drop  in 


1j 

* '  ..<  v.'t'/^    "Xl^ite-?1  — — » ^   /ja-  ^       •          -J/'  V>"<'{ 


"HE  SAT   DOWN   BY   THE   RIVER-SIDE  TO   MEDITATE." 
23 


354  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

the  river  that  flowed  without  ceasing  to  the  unknown 
sea?  What  could  any  one  do  but  yield  himself  to  neces- 
sity, and  summon  his  courage  to  endure?  Then  at  the 
singing  of  a  bird  his  mood  lightened  and  was  changed, 
as  if  he  had  heard  the  Evangel.  God  was  over  all,  and 
life  was  immortal,  and  he  could  not  be  wrong  who  did 
the  will  of  God.  After  a  day  of  conflict,  peace  came  to 
his  soul,  and  in  the  soft  light  of  the  setting  sun  he  rose 
to  go  home. 

"  Miss  Carnegie  ...  I  did  not  know  you  were  here 
...  I  thought  you  were  in  London,"  and  Carmichael 
stood  before  Kate  in  great  confusion. 

"  Nor  did  I  see  you  behind  that  tree  "  —  Kate  herself 
was  startled.  "  Yes,  the  General  and  I  have  been  visit- 
ing some  old  friends,  and  only  came  home  an  hour 
ago. 

"Do  you  know"  —  Kate  was  herself  again — "the 
first  thing  I  do  on  arrival  is  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  this 
place.  Half  an  hour  here  banishes  the  dust  of  a  day's 
journey  and  of  ... 

"Besides,  I  don't  know  whether  you  have  heard" 
Kate  spoke  hurriedly — "that  it   is  now  settled  that  I 
...  we  will  be  leaving  the  Lodge  soon,  and  one  wants 
to  have  as  much  as  possible  of  the  old  place  in  the  time 
remaining." 

She  gave  him  this  opportunity  in  kindness,  as  it 
seemed,  and  he  reproached  himself  because  he  did  not 
offer  his  congratulations. 

"  You  will,  I  ...  the  people  hope,  come  often  here, 
Miss  Carnegie,  and  not  cast  off  Drumtochty,  although 
the  Lodge  be  not  your  home.  You  will  always  have  a 
place  in  the  hearts  of  the  Glen.  Marjorie  will  never  be 
grateful  enough  for  your  readings,"  which  was  bravely 
said. 


LOVE    IS   LORD.  355 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  can  ever  forget  the  Glen  and 
my  .  .  .  friends  here  ?  Not  while  I  live  ;  the  Carne- 
gies  have  their  own  faults,  but  ingratitude  is  not  one. 
Nor  the  dear  Rabbi's  grave."  Then  there  was  silence, 
which  Carmichael  found  very  trying  —  they  had  been  so 
near  that  day  in  Kilbogie  Manse,  with  only  the  Rabbi, 
who  loved  them  both,  between  ;  but  now,  although  they 
stood  face  to  face,  there  was  a  gulf  dividing  them. 

"  It  may  not  be  easy  for  me  to  visit  Drumtochty  often, 
for  you  know  there  has  been  a  change  ...  in  our 
circumstances,  and  one  must  suit  oneself  to  it." 

Carmichael  flushed  uneasily,  and  Kate  supposed  that 
he  was  sympathising  with  their  losses. 

"  I  hope  to  be  a  busy  woman  soon,  with  lots  of  work, 
and  I  shall  use  every  one  of  my  little  scraps  of  knowl- 
edge. How  do  you  think  I  shall  acquit  myself  in  my 
new  role?  " 

It  was  a  little  hard  on  Carmichael,  who  was  thinking 
of  a  countess,  while  Kate  meant  a  governess. 

"  You  need  not  ask  me  how  I  think  you  will  do  as 
...  in  any  position,  and  I  ...  wish  you  every  success, 
and  .  .  .  (with  a  visible  effort)  happiness." 

He  spoke  so  stiffly  that  Kate  sought  about  for  reasons, 
and  could  only  remember  their  quarrel  and  imagine  he 
retained  a  grudge  —  which  she  thought  was  rather 
ungenerous. 

"  It  occurs  to  me  that  one  man  ought  to  be  thankful 
when  we  depart,  for  then  he  will  be  able  to  call  Queen 
Mary  names  every  Sunday  without  a  misguided  Jacobite 
girl  dropping  in  to  create  a  disturbance." 

"  Drumtochty  will  have  to  form  its  own  opinion  of 
poor  Mary  without  my  aid,"  and  Carmichael  smiled 
sadly  in  pardon  of  the  past,  "  for  it  is  likely,  although  no 


356  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

one  knows  this  in  the  Glen,  that  I  shall  soon  be  far 
away." 

"  Leaving  Drumtochty?  What  will  Marjorie  do  with- 
out you,  and  Dr.  Davidson,  and  ...  all  the  people?" 
Then,  remembering  Janet's  gossip,  and  her  voice  freez- 
ing, "  I  suppose  you  haye  got  a  better  or  more  conven- 
ient living.  The  Glen  is  certainly  rather  inaccessible." 

"  Have  I  done  anything,  Miss  Carnegie,  to  justify  you 
in  thinking  that  I  would  leave  the  Glen,  which  has  been 
so  good  to  me,  for  ...  worldly  reasons?  There  is 
enough  to  support  an  unmarried  man,  and  I  am  not 
likely  to  ...  to  marry,"  said  Carmichael,  bitterly;  "but 
there  are  times  when  it  is  better  for  a  man  to  change  his 
whole  surroundings  and  make  a  new  life." 

It  was  clear  that  the  Bailie's  daughter  was  a  ro- 
mance of  Janet's  Celtic  imagination,  and  Kate's  manner 
softened. 

"The  Rabbi's  death  and  .  .  .  your  difference  of  opin- 
ion—  something  about  doctrine,  wasn't  it?  we  were 
from  home  —  must  have  been  a  great  trial,  and,  as  there 
was  no  opportunity  before,  let  me  say  how  much  we 
sympathised  with  you  and  .  .  .  thought  of  you. 

"  Do  you  think,  however,  Mr.  Carmichael  "  —  she 
spoke  with  hesitation,  but  much  kindness  — "  that  you 
ought  to  fling  up  your  work  here  on  that  account? 
Would  not  the  Rabbi  himself  have  wished  you  to  stick 
to  your  post?  .  .  .  and  all  your  friends  would  like  to 
think  you  had  been  .  .  .  brave." 

"  You  are  cruel,  Miss  Carnegie ;  you  try  me  beyond 
what  I  can  endure,  although  I  shall  be  ashamed  to-night 
for  what  I  am  to  say.  Do  you  not  know  or  guess  that 
it  is  your  ...  on  account  of  you,  I  mean,  that  I  must 
leave  Drumtochty  ?  " 


LOVE   IS   LORD.  357 

"  On  account  of  me  ?  "  Kate  looked  at  him  in  unaf- 
fected amazement. 

"  Are  you  blind,  or  is  it  that  you  could  not  suspect 
me  of  such  presumption?  Had  you  no  idea  that  night 
in  Dr.  Davidson's  drawing-room?  Have  you  never  seen 
that  I  ...  Kate  —  I  will  say  it  once  to  your  face  as  I 
say  it  every  hour  to  myself  —  you  won  my  heart  in  an 
instant  on  Muirtown  Station,  and  will  hold  it  till  I  die. 

"Do  not  speak  till  I  be  done,  and  then  order  me 
from  your  presence  as  I  deserve.  I  know  that  it  is  un- 
worthy of  a  gentleman,  and  ...  a  minister  of  Christ  to 
say  such  things  to  the  betrothed  of  another  man ;  only 
one  minute  more"  —  for  Kate  had  started  as  if  in  anger 
—  "I  know  also  that  if  I  were  stronger  I  could  go  oi) 
living  as  before,  and  meet  you  from  time  to  time  when 
you  came  from  the  Castle  with  your  husband,  and  never 
allow  myself  to  think  of  Lady  Hay  as  I  felt  to  Miss 
Carnegie.  But  I  am  afraid  of  myself,  and  .  .  .  this  is 
the  last  time  we  shall  meet,  Miss  Carnegie.  Forgive  me 
for  my  love,  and  believe  that  one  man  will  ever  remem- 
ber and  .  .  .  pray  for  you." 

Carmichael  bowed  low,  the  last  sunshine  of  the  even- 
ing playing  on  his  fair  hair,  and  turned  to  go. 

"  One  word,  if  you  please,"  said  Kate,  and  they  looked 
into  one  another's  eyes,  the  blue  and  brown,  seeing  many 
things  that  cannot  be  written.  "  You  may  be  forgiven 
for  ...  loving  me,  because  you  could  not  help  that  "  — 
this  with  a  very  roguish  look,  our  Kate  all  over  —  "  and 
I  suppose  you  must  be  forgiven  for  listening  to  foolish 
gossip,  since  people  will  tell  lies"  —  this  with  a  stamp  of 
the  foot,  our  Kate  again  —  "but  I  shall  never  forgive 
you  if  you  leave  me,  never  "  —  this  was  a  new  Kate,  like 
to  the  opening  of  a  flower. 


353  KATE   CARNEGIE. 

"  Why?  Tell  me  plainly,"  and  in  the  silence  Car- 
michael  heard  a  trout  leap  in  the  river. 

"  Because  I  love  you." 

The  Tochty  water  sang  a  pleasant  song,  and  the  sun 
set  gloriously  behind  Ben  Urtach. 


THE    END. 


DATE  DUE 


GAYLORD 


PRINTED  IN  USA. 


Jf"  000  662  946    3 


